The Weasley Twins and the Kosa Assassin
by phantomduck
Summary: The twins are back for their third year, unfortunately for them an old adversary is also back with a score to settle. Part three in a series - Part 1: Surviving The Weasley Twins, Part 2: The Weasley Twins and the Sect of Kai.
1. Secret Doors and Stolen Badges

Keep to yourself, don't ask questions, and don't stare at anyone. Following these three simple commandments were the unwritten rules of Knockturn Alley. Follow these and you will be left alone, and in Knockturn Alley the one thing you wanted above all else was to be left alone.

The hooded figure followed these rules to the letter as it slalomed through the waifs and strays of the alleyway, the cowl pulled tight over his face and head bent low so that only the tip of his nose protruded enough to be visible.

"Watch it!" ordered a gruff-looking man buffeted out of the way. The hooded individual ignored him and continued on his single minded journey.

"I said 'watch it'!" reiterated the man, slapping a plate size hand down on the shoulder of the stranger.

The covered person spun around with a surprising speed that caught the man off guard. There was a sudden flash of red, which caused a startled old woman nearby to scream out in shock, and the man crumpled down onto the pavement under the power of the Stunning Spell. Despite a number of people being present, there was silence all around.

The hooded figure looked down at the body of the man, prodding it carefully with a boot, before raising its head to meet the eyes of the old woman, who immediately looked away and tried to seem as if she hadn't noticed any confrontation. Others in the alley did the same as the hooded person turned in their direction, each person suddenly pretended to be very interested in the slab of pavement just below their feet. Satisfied that nothing else was going to happen, the covered figure moved off once again, leaving the prone man behind to have his pockets picked clean by the more opportunistic denizens of the alley.

Turning right the figure left the relative hustle of the main part of Knockturn Alley and disappeared down one of the numerous side streets that branched out from it. A few more turns and he stopped at a dead end, huge imposing walls rearing up in front as well as on either side. Pushing a gloved hand into a pocket to retrieve a worn, folded scrap of parchment with small spidery writing on it, the figure muttered some words from within the confines of the cowl.

A low rumbling sounded as the bricks slowly parted in the wall to reveal a hidden door. A hand reached out and pushed it open.

Stepping through the doorway the figure found itself in a dark hallway. Up ahead was the faint noise of music being played. Ominous pictures hung from the wall, its inhabitants watching the cloaked person warily as it passed by them. At the end of the hall was a large velvet curtain blocking the way, the figure pushed its way through and stepped into the room beyond.

The music was louder now. The figured looked across to the source, an old gramophone, slowly whirling away in the corner of the room, echoing out a slow thoughtful melody.

The room was decorated very lushly. Expensive looking ornaments adorned various shelves and side tables, a dusty collection of books were mounted on one side of the room, while a plush carpet filled the middle of it. Directly ahead was a large desk, intricately carved in the finest detail. Behind the desk, sat a high back chair, it was swivelled away so that the hooded figure could only see one arm of the occupant who was using a gloved hand to conduct in time to the music.

"Ahem," the cough was muffled slightly under the cowl, and drew no response from the resident of the chair. The figure repeated the gesture, slightly louder this time, "ahem."

The hand paused in its conducting and was turned to wave a finger at the figure before returning to its musical role. The figure waited impatiently as the music continued until it gradually faded away.

The occupant of the chair, who was still turned away, reached down onto the table and picked up a wand. A quiet muttering and movement was enough to send the gramophone into a still state.

"You can say what you like about Muggles," said a gravely voice from within in the confines of the chair, "but there are some things that they can get right on occasion. Are you a fan of Mozart?"

"I couldn't really say," replied a male voice evenly.

"No?" asked the seated man, "you should give him a chance, you're missing out. Beethoven is also good, very powerful, but after his openings, to be honest, he does tend to get a little boring…"

"Look," snapped the cloaked man, "I'm here…"

"I know why you are here," the seated man replied coolly cutting him off, "people only come to me for one reason. You have a problem, and you need it taken care of."

"Quite," agreed the hooded man, "in fact, I have three problems."

"As long as you have enough money you can have as many problems as you like."

The hooded man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag which he threw down onto the table. It gave the unmistakable clink of coins bouncing together as it landed. The chair swivelled slightly and its inhabitant reached a hand out to pick up the coin purse. The sleeve on the arm pulled back a little to reveal a skin of dark green scales. The hooded man shivered slightly at the sight.

"This feels about right," admitted the man in the chair, bouncing the small bag up and down in his hand, "so, what are the three problems?"

"These," there was a soft sound as the hooded man dropped a couple of photographs down on the table, which were immediately scooped up by the owner of the scaled arm, who examined the first one, "that's Enoch Feverence, general treasure hunter and, up until a few months ago, a teacher at Hogwarts."

"Ahh yes," muttered the voice, "I remember this fellow being in the Daily Prophet, complaints of destruction of historic Egyptian artefacts I seem to recall, although I believed he claimed that he stopped some religious sect from destroying the world or some such nonsense. A man like that would step on a lot of toes, and I'm guessing you have sore feet?"

"Yes," replied the hooded man, clenching his jaw.

"Now this is much more interesting," continued the seated man, looking at the second picture, "what could these two have possibly done to you?"

"Does it matter?" asked the hooded man tersely.

"I suppose not," came the reply, "any special instructions?"

"Not with Feverence, but with the other two make it look like an accident."

"Any particular reason?"

"Because I don't have any details on them," explained the hooded man, "other then they are Hogwarts students, so you'd be taking care of them under the nose of Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore eh?" said the voice thoughtfully, "I enjoy a challenge, but it may take a while since it will require extra planning."

"Take all the time you need. Just get it done," with that the man turned on his heel and headed out of the room.

"Just one more thing," said the voice from the chair, causing the man to pause with his hand on the thick velvet curtain, "what exactly did these children do to you that you would send someone like me after them?"

"They stole something from me," replied the man without turning.

"It must have been pretty valuable."

"It was priceless," said the man. The sleeve of the outstretch hand holding the curtain slipped back to reveal a black tattoo of a beetle on his forearm, "they stole my master's future."

"We didn't take anything," complained Fred bitterly, helping himself to some scrambled egg.

"Oh and I suppose it just magically disappeared did it?" countered Percy throwing his hands up.

"Just because you've misplaced something it doesn't mean you should blame us," explained George picking some toast up and starting to butter it.

"It was on the cabinet in my room when I went to bed last night," said Percy through gritted teeth, "and this morning it's suddenly missing."

"Honestly, what is going on?" complained Mrs Weasley stepping into the kitchen of the Burrow and dumping her arm full of potatoes into the sink, "I can hear you three outside."

"Fred and George stole my prefect's badge," Percy informed his mother.

"Fred? George?" sighed Mrs Weasley, "did you take his badge?"

"Mum, does that really sound like something we'd do?" asked George innocently.

"Well let's see shall we," said Mrs Weasley counting on her fingers, "when Bill got his prefect's badge you hid it in your father's packed lunch, and then with Charlie if I recall you pinned his badge on one of the gnomes in the garden. So yes, it does sound like something you'd do."

"You really didn't think through that argument did you?" Fred asked his twin.

"Well?" asked Mrs Weasley tapping her foot, "where is it?"

"I can honestly say I don't know," said George, the picture of purity.

"Fine," said Mrs Weasley taking her wand out from the pocket on the front of her apron, "accio prefect's badge!"

Percy suddenly went from looking decidedly smug to a mixture of panic and surprise as he suddenly jumped up out of his seat. There was a loud ripping sound and a shining piece of metal flew through the air which was caught by Mrs Weasley. She frowned as she looked at the badge, which had some white fabric attached to it. She looked from the badge, to the giggling twins, and finally to Percy who frantically had his hand clamped over the seat of his trousers.

"You attached it to his pants?" asked George laughing.

"Well you said put it in the last place he would look," replied Fred grinning.

"Percy take this, then upstairs and get changed out of those clothes," ordered Mrs Weasley, handing the badge back to him. The new Hogwarts prefect gave a dark look towards his brothers as he disappeared up the stairs. She turned to the twins, "well at least I now have volunteers for peeling the potatoes."

"Mum," complained Fred looking at the pile currently in the sink.

"Don't complain," Mrs Weasley said cutting him off, "or I'll leave you two here when we go to Diagon Alley to collect yours and your brothers' school things."

"So we'll have the place to ourselves?" asked George raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm," Mrs Weasley pictured the house if she'd left the twins unattended, "on second thoughts you'll be coming with me no matter what."

"So this means we can complain about having to peel the potatoes?" Fred clarified.

"Of course," replied Mrs Weasley, "if you want to end up peeling all of the vegetables for every dinner until you go back to school."

Charlie had left home the week before, midst floods of tears from Mrs Weasley, to start his new job in a dragon sanctuary in Romania. This coupled with the fact that Bill had moved out a couple of years previous meant that the Burrow had become less crowded than normal. The downside of this was that it meant there was one less person for the twins to mess around with and Charlie's household chores were divided amongst the rest of the children, although on the plus side it meant larger portions at meal times.

Normally the twins would spend their summer holidays trying to think up new ways to annoy Percy, or some ridiculous scheme that would usual end up with one or both of them nursing a new bruise or cut, but with their youngest brother Ron finally starting at Hogwarts their new past time was to wind him up over what to expect about when he finally started school.

"Don't get me started on Defence Against the Dark Arts," said George shaking his head.

"Why what's wrong with that one?" asked Ron, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Well basically all that happens is the teacher just shows you all the different hexes and curses by trying them out on you," explained Fred seriously, "and some of those can be quite painful."

"But they can't do that can they?"

"You try telling them that," replied George, "last time we complained we were hung up by our thumbs."

"And then we complained about that," admitted Fred, "so instead they hung us by our ankles."

"Stop talking nonsense," Mrs Weasley said having overheard them, "don't you listen to a word they say, Hogwarts is a wonderful place. You two, make a start on peeling those potatoes will you?"

"Yeah, you two," said George looking at his two brothers, "get on with it."

"Honestly," said Mrs Weasley ushering the twins towards the sink, "if you were that quick witted during your classes you'd be the next Minister of Magic."

"Hey, we got good marks this year," complained Fred starting to get to work.

"Yes your marks were good," admitted Mrs Weasley, "but I was more concerned with the number of letters I received from Professor McGonagall during the year about your general behaviour and the less said about the school holiday in Egypt the better. I would wonder where you get it from but I think after last year we can firmly plant that question at the feet of your uncle."

"Evening Weasleys," bellowed Mr Weasley pushing open the door to the Burrow, Errol the family's owl flew in over his shoulder and landed awkwardly on the table.

"Alright dad," nodded Fred before turning back to peeling the potatoes.

"A nice collection of letters today," said Mr Weasley, kissing his wife on the cheek and flicking through the post he'd collected off the owl, "there are a couple here for you boys."

"Really?" asked George turning around and looking eagerly at a package on the table.

"No, that's mine," said Mr Weasley handing two letters over to him, "these ones are yours."

"You can read those," said Mrs Weasley plucking them out of George's hand, "when you are done with the peeling."

"What's in the package?" asked Fred pointing at the small box on the table.

"Oh this?" beamed Mr Weasley picking up the package, "it's something special I picked up for your mum."

"For me?" smiled a surprised Mrs Weasley.

"I know our anniversary isn't for a while yet but I've been after this for ages. You can open it now."

Mrs Weasley hummed a little happy tune to herself as the pulled the brown paper apart, opened the box and retrieved the contents.

"Oh… it's lovely," said Mrs Weasley slowly, holding her present up for all to see, "what is it?"

"It's a torch," said Mr Weasley triumphantly rummaging around under the skin, until he pulled out a box full of batteries of every size, "watch this."

Mr Weasley took the torch from his wife and unscrewed the top. He fumbled through the box of batteries until he found two that would fit inside. Replacing the top he, flicked the button so that a beam of light shot from the end. He was so excited by the whole thing he almost dropped it.

"That's nice," commented Mrs Weasley carefully.

"That's what I thought," said Mr Weasley pulling the beam of light around the room with a look of childish glee on his face, "now if we get up in the night and we need to look for something in the dark we'll be able to see."

"Can't we just use our wands for that?" Mrs Weasley pointed out diplomatically.

"Ah, but what if you are looking for your wand?" countered Mr Weasley, shining the torch up the chimney, "I'm going to try this out somewhere dark; just popping to the shed."

Mr Weasley bounced out of the door, before quickly sticking his head back in, "you don't mind if I borrow your present for a bit do you dear?"

"No, absolutely not," smiled Mrs Weasley sweetly through clenched teeth. Once her husband's head disappeared from view she let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes.

"I don't know why we have to do this," complained Fred hacking away at a large potato, "you could easily do this in a second with a spell."

"Yes," agreed Mrs Weasley, "and if you'd left Percy alone I would have used magic to peel the potatoes, but seeing as you just had to torment him…"

"Actually when you put it that way…" admitted Fred shrugging.

"…it seems worth it," finished George.

They eventually finished peeling the potatoes, although this would have been done much sooner if they hadn't kept taking breaks from their work to flick the peelings at each other, much to the chagrin of Mrs Weasley who, tired of breaking up the skirmishes, took to knitting at the kitchen table to keep an eye on the pair.

As the warm and fragrant smell of dinner began to envelope the house, the twins retired to their bedroom to read their two letters, one from their best friend Lee Jordan while the other was from their uncle, and former teacher, Enoch.

"How's Lee getting on?" asked Fred who was busy reading their uncle's letter.

"He's doing fine," replied George lying on the floor with his legs propped up against the wall, "stayed the summer with his cousins. What about Enoch?"

"He's heading to South America," Fred informed his brother, "he heard about some buried treasure in a remote part of the Amazon, apparently he would have invited us along but since he couldn't guarantee the safety of the rainforest he decided against it."

"Cheeky git," muttered George, not looking up from Lee's letter, "it's been months since we've broken anything."

"The table in the Gryffindor Common Room," reminded Fred.

"It's been weeks since we've broken anything," said George not missing a beat.

"There was that window at the Egyptian school."

"It's been days…"

"Percy's cauldron," Fred interrupted.

"It's been hours," George said slowly looking at his brother, who nodded in agreement, before finishing his sentence, "since we've broken anything."

"Fred! George!" Mrs Weasley shouted up the stairs, "which one of you did this?"

"It's been minutes…"


	2. Shopping Trip to Diagon Alley

Diagon Alley was buzzing with the sound of people talking, animals squawking and shopkeepers trying to entice customers into their stores. Mrs Weasley was trying her best to coral the family around the various different outlets without losing any of them, having to pay particular attention to the twins who had a habit of getting distracted by something in a window and remaining there without telling her.

As the twins' youngest brother Ron was starting at Hogwarts this year, the majority of the items they were in London for were for him. Mrs Weasley had taken Ron into Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions along with the youngest and only female amongst the Weasley children Ginny, to arrange to have him fitted for his school robes. As the Weasley family didn't really have much money to spare, rather then getting new robes, Ron was getting hand-me-downs from one of his older brothers and Madam Malkin was making the necessary adjustments to them. Since this would take a while Percy had been left in charge of the twins, under strict instructions to try and keep them out of trouble. He'd managed it for about twenty seconds which, in fairness to Percy, was twenty seconds longer than the twins had expected it.

"How would you like me to punch your lights out?" asked Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, sixth year and all round knuckle dragging bully. A few seconds previously Fred had accidentally bumped into him, thus starting the initial altercation, although the twins were doing there part to fan the flames of confrontation.

"Are you expecting me to answer that?" replied Fred frowning, "because I think I'll have to go with no."

"Are you sure there Fred?" asked George, "there is a lot to be said for a good old punch in the face."

"I'm sure there is," admitted Fred shrugging, "but I'm not really in the mood today. Maybe next time though."

"You two think you are so smart don't you?" growled Flint glowering at the pair.

"Who us?" asked George pointing a thumb at his own chest, and shaking his head, "we don't think we are smarter than the average student at Hogwarts."

"Although compared to you we are geniuses," admitted Fred smiling.

"Anyone compared to him would be a genius," argued George pointing at himself, "me, you, Percy, a brick, we could all outsmart him."

"Right that's it," snapped Flint grabbing hold of George's shirt and pulling his fist back.

"Stop that right now," ordered Percy marching forward and forcing himself between the pair. Flint in his surprise let go of George. Percy pulled aside his coat to reveal his prefect's badge pinned to his shirt. It had been polished that much that it simply gleamed in the sunlight. "I'm a prefect now so you have to do what I say."

"No I don't," Flint disagreed shaking his head.

"Yes, you do," countered Percy holding firm.

"Why?" asked Flint.

"Because…" Percy started, before realising he couldn't actually come up with a reasonable argument, "because I'm a prefect, that's why."

"We're not in school," said Flint, motioning with his hands at the area around them to emphasise the point, "and you know what? Even if we were, I still wouldn't listen to you."

"Well if we were in school, I'd have put you in detention by now."

"And I'd have put you in the Hospital Wing by now," muttered Flint, "in fact; there is nothing from stopping me doing that now."

"Now see here…" Percy started as Flint grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled his fist back.

Flint's look of glee changed to one of surprise and finally annoyance as his cocked fist was grabbed from behind and wrenched up behind his back. Flint struggled as hard as he could but his assailant had him held tight.

"Still not picking on people your own size I see Flint," said Miro Franca, the best friend of the twins' brother Charlie, holding onto the struggling Slytherin student.

"You're about my size," replied Flint still trying to break free, "why don't you let me go and we can settle this properly?"

"Fair enough," shrugged Miro, pushing Flint away from him.

"Big mistake," muttered Flint, rubbing his now sore arm before raising both fists.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," admitted Miro pulling out his wand.

"Hey, that's not fair, you can't use magic," complained Flint suddenly unsure of what to do.

"Actually," smiled Miro twirling his wand in a circle, "I turned seventeen just after Christmas so yes, I'm allowed to use magic."

"So you'll use a wand against someone who is unarmed?" sneered Flint.

"Where you are concerned, I'll take any advantage I can get," replied Miro coolly, "it's the first thing you learn at Auror training."

"Really?" asked Fred completely ignoring the tension of the confrontation.

"Actually no," admitted Miro shaking his head, "the first thing they teach you is where the toilets and kitchen are, then they'll introduce in the instructors, go over the course aims, basic skills that kind of thing. I'd say it's probably about the eighteenth thing you learn…"

"Oi," snapped Flint, annoyed at Miro's distracted conversation, "are you forgetting I'm here?"

"Sadly no," admitted Miro, "I doubt anyone with even the weakest sense of smell would be able to forget about you."

"Why you…"

"Marcus Reginald Flint where are you?" barked a shrill voice, causing a startled Flint to spin around with a panicked look on his face.

"Mum," replied Flint looking annoyed.

"Don't you 'mum' me," snapped the woman as she walked over to Flint and the Gryffinor boys from one of the many nearby shops. She was dressed in a dark pink outfit with her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She looked at her son and then at the other boys over her horned rimmed glasses. "Well Marcus? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

"They aren't my friends," mumbled Flint rolling his eyes.

"Honestly what have I said about you speaking up? How is anyone suppose to be able to hear you properly when you mumble like that?" asked Mrs Flint, her voice quick and sharp, "now what did you say?"

"They aren't my friends," Flint reiterated this time making sure he pronounced the words clearly.

"Nonsense," replied Mrs Flint dismissively, "of course you are friends, you're the same age aren't you?" She stopped addressing her son and turned to the twins, Percy and Miro, and broke out in a wide smile and addressed them in a much friendlier tone, "Serendipity Flint, although my friends call me Bunty, not entirely sure why, but I'm very please to finally meet some of Marcus's friends, never talks about any of you of course. I'm hard pressed to even get a 'hello' out of him most days."

"Really?" asked Miro smiling as he shook Mrs Flint's offered hand, "that is a surprise because at school he is always talking about you."

"He is?" beamed a surprised Mrs Flint looking thoroughly pleased, "well he always was a bit of a mummy's boy, weren't you?" she looked over at her son and ruffled his hair, "don't slouch dear, you weren't raised by goblins." She turned back to Miro, "I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Miro Franca."

"Miro… Miro…," Mrs Flint said to herself thoughtfully, "no relation to Mercia Franca are you?"

"That's my aunt," admitted Miro nodding.

"Ah yes I know her well," Mrs Flint smiled, "she's always talking about you, said you were training to be an Auror, is that right?"

"Yes that's right, I left Hogwarts just last year."

"Well bully for you, that's a fantastic career choice," Mrs Flint congratulated him with a friendly punch on the shoulder before pointing a thumb over her shoulder at her son, "I don't suppose you could have a word with him could you? Appalling results last year, I'm surprised they let him back in."

"Mum!" complained Flint, as the twins sniggered.

"In a minute dear," replied Mrs Flint dismissively, "of course I doubt he'd survive long as an Auror. They have nerves of steal and that silly thing was afraid of the dark until he was about twelve, almost missed catching his first Hogwarts Express because he couldn't leave home without his little teddy-bear…"

"Mum!"

"Oh that's right; it wasn't a teddy-bear was it? It was a toy rabbit; Flopsy I seem to recall," she corrected herself misunderstanding her son's complaint. She turned to look at Percy and the twins, her eyes flickering over their red hair, "don't tell me, you'll have to be some of Molly Weasley's lot aren't you?"

"That's right," said Percy stepping forward, he shook Mrs Flint's hand and gave a brief pompous bow, "I'm Percy and they are Fred and George."

"Very nice to meet you," she said shaking the twins' hands as well. She looked at Percy and noticed his prefect's badge poking out from behind his coat, "my word, a prefect are you? Very impressive, I had hoped Marcus would have followed in my footsteps and been made one but there's a little too much of his father in him I think. How is your dear mother these days? I use to go to school with her, different Houses of course but we always got on well."

"She's actually over in Madam Malkin's at the moment," explained Percy pointing towards the shop, "our younger brother is starting this year so she's just getting his robes adjusted."

"Excellent," smiled Mrs Flint looking at the shop, "I think I'll go and catch up with her." She turned to look at her son, "you should come too, I can't carry all these bags on my own, plus we can pick you up some new underwear while we are there." She rolled her eyes up at Miro, "honestly don't know how he manages to go through them so quickly when he's at school. Very nice to meet you boys, come along Marcus."

"See you Marcus," Miro waved bye.

"Bye Marcus," chorused the twins "say 'hello' to Flopsy for us." Flint shot them a look of pure hatred as he passed by.

Mrs Flint pushed open the door to Madam Malkin's and stepped inside along with her son, before it swung shut they just about managed to hear her exclaim in her high-pitched voice, "Molly, my dear how are you?"

"That was just about perfect," George stated firmly with a smile on his face.

"Just about?" asked Fred frowning, "what were we missing?"

"Ice-cream," replied George, "there is always room for ice-cream to make things even better."

"Come on then," sighed Miro pointing towards Florean Forescue's Ice Cream Parlour where there was a line of children waiting to buy some delicious ice-cream, "my treat."

"Nice one Miro," said Fred slapping their ex-team-mate on the back.

"Well I'm getting paid now," shrugged Miro, "but don't get anything too fancy, I'm not made of money you know."

The four boys sat down at one of the tables outside of the shop while they tried to work out which delectable flavour to try. Eventually they settled on a choice and Miro headed up to order it.

"How's Charlie getting on in Romania?" asked Miro when he returned to his seat.

"He's loving it," admitted Percy, "sent a letter home last week, the edges were a bit singed, but he said he was having a blast."

"I'm not surprised," smiled Miro, "that boy was obsessed with dragons. You should have seen all the posters he put up in our dormitory, it was like living in a reptile house. So you made prefect then Percy?"

"Oh God," said Fred slapping a hand to his forehead, "don't get him started."

"Yes I did," said Percy, flashing a look of annoyance at his brother, "although to be honest it was hardly surprising."

"I'll say," agreed Miro, "you certainly do epitomise everything that it means to be a prefect."

"That's a bit mean to the prefects isn't it?" asked George.

"So what's it like training to be an Auror?" asked Percy quickly, choosing to ignore his brother.

"It's great;" smiled Miro, "but it is hard work, and I don't just mean having to learn all the different skills you need. They are constantly testing you."

"What you mean like exams and stuff?" enquired George looking unimpressed, "I thought you'd have had enough of that at school."

"No, although there are plenty of theory and practical exams," agreed Miro, "I mean they keep doing weird tests to see if you are ready to be Auror material. I have one instructor who keeps jumping out from nowhere and attacking me to see if I'm prepared to defend myself."

"That seems a little extreme," remarked Percy looking rather shocked.

"That seems brilliant," exclaimed Fred.

"That's what I thought at first," admitted Miro nodding in agreement, "but when you suddenly get attacked in the middle of the night by a man who has been hiding under your bed for the last four hours before jumping out at you, it tends to get a little annoying."

"Yeah, actually that doesn't sound the best," George concurred.

Soon the waitress brought over their orders and they were just pushing back their bowls as Mrs Weasley, spotting them from across the road, met up with them, with Ron and Ginny in tow.

"Mummy," said Ginny pulling on her mother's sleeve, "can I have an ice-cream?"

"Yeah me too," added Ron looking longingly at the counter where all the various flavours were displayed and licking his lips.

"Ah okay why not? Here," Mrs Weasley fished out a few coins from her purse and handed them to Ron, "thanks ever so much for keeping an eye on them Miro."

"They were no trouble," Miro responded despite Percy flashing a look at the twins.

"Mum," said Percy, "can I go to Flourish and Blotts? I want to see if they have any books on being a prefect."

"Of course dear," Mrs Weasley replied, "we'll meet you over there when Ron and Ginny have finished their ice-creams."

"How come he gets to go off on his own?" complained Fred.

"Because _I_ can be trusted," replied Percy before heading off down the street.

"We can be trusted," sulked George, looking at his mother.

"If you want Mrs Weasley," said Miro, "I can keep an eye on them; let you get on with shopping for their school stuff."

"Oh Miro, you really are a Godsend," Mrs Weasley slumped down into the chair recently vacated by Percy, "you'd think I'd have got use to shopping for stuff for school by now. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not, I've got the morning off," shrugged Miro, "I'll take them down to Quality Quidditch Supplies that'll keep them busy for a while."

"Excellent," smiled Fred suddenly jumping up, "come on lets go."

"No Knockturn Alley," Mrs Weasley ordered as George and Miro joined Fred.

"Mum," complained George, pointing at Miro, "we're going with an Auror, how much safer could we be?"

"No." She stated firmly.

"Understood Mrs Weasley," said Miro giving her a thumbs-up, "see you later."

Miro and the twins turned and left the others at the table and headed down the street. Diagon Alley was full of students from Hogwarts, their families also having decided to shop there for school supplies. They bumped into a number of Gryffindor students along the way as well the school's groundkeeper Hagrid, who was carrying a beautiful white snowy owl in a cage through the crowd.

Despite their best attempts to persuade Miro to lead them through the infamous Knockturn Alley rather then the Quidditch shop, he bluntly refused based on his promise to their mother. However he did eventually, after much beseeching from both of the Weasley boys to show them something interesting, agreed to take them to a shop hidden away through the back alleys and laneways that branched off from the main street.

This particular shop was a museum of Dark Arts; it charted the history of black magic along with some details of some of the most dangerous wizards that the world had ever seen. Statues and portraits showed the depiction of the various effects of perilous and, in most cases, illegal curses that could be performed.

"Pfft, he weren't so tough," said George as they walked out of an exhibit devoted to Shadeesh Kai.

"This from the man who is scared of bats," muttered Fred rolling his eyes.

"I'm not scared of them," countered George, "I'm just saying we should keep our eye on them, I don't trust them."

"Are you two ever serious?" asked Miro shaking his head.

"I tried it once a few years ago," admitted Fred shuddering, "decided it just wasn't for me."

The three boys wandered through the different rooms, occasionally calling each other over to a particular portrait that showed some disgustingly deformed victim. Eventually they managed to wander through each of the rooms, and had a quick stop in the gift shop before leaving. Miro decided to buy each of the twins a key ring with a small shrunken head attached to it, whose eyes swivelled back and forth when you swung it. They stepped back out into the street, not before George had informed the short squat women behind the counter of the gift shop that their statue of Shadeesh Kai looked nothing like him, and headed back towards the main part of Diagon Alley.

"Cheers for this Miro," said Fred holding up his key ring, "he actually looks a bit like Percy."

"That's a bit unfair," said George taking a closer look, "he's nowhere near as ugly as Percy."

"Of course there is one slight problem with it," Fred said apologetically as the three boys walked into a small empty courtyard.

"Oh yeah?" said Miro absentmindedly looking around the quad with a frown on his face, "what's that?"

"The thing is I don't actually own any keys."

"Well you are going to own some keys at some point aren't you?" Miro was now looking at the rooftops of the buildings surrounding the square.

"I suppose," thought Fred much happier. They'd almost reached the far side of the courtyard and were about to enter another alleyway, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," said Miro shaking his head, "I just thought… you know what? It doesn't matter, probably nothing anyway. It's all this Auror training. It's starting to make me paranoid."

"Don't worry Miro," said George slapping him on the back, "you've got me and Fred here to protect you."

There was a slight scraping sound from above them. A couple of roof tiles came loose and smashed onto the ground below. Then the attack started.


	3. Frantic Fight

"Watch out," ordered Miro pushing the twins to one side, as a bolt of magic missed them and smashed loudly into the pavement throwing up shrapnel of stone.

Fred and George landed heavily on the ground rolling slightly andboth reached for their wands, but before they could draw them a second spell struck the pair of them. A strange feeling of coldness swarmed through their bodies suddenly making it impossible for them to move. They both crumpled over onto the ground. Both rigid as boards all they could do was watch helplessly from the floor as Miro confronted the attacker.

Miro dived to one side pulling his wand out of his inside pocket; he rolled awkwardly on the floor and managed to cast a shield charm just in time to protect himself. A blue blast of magic ricocheted off the supernatural shield and crashed into one of the buildings where it evaporated and left a small blue stain.

Miro raised his wand as he got to his feet. His assailant was dressed in a dark heavy cloak, a cowl pulled tight over his head, while he pointed his own wand at the young Auror. The pair slowly circled each other, Miro making sure to move himself between the attacker and the twins. He waved his wand and chanted "Stupefy!"

His opponent, expecting a Stunning Spell dodged to one side but was surprised to find himself being hit from behind by several small tiles from the roof of the building behind him instead. The slabs caused him to stumble slightly, and fall down onto one knee. Miro used this momentary confusion to send a real Stunning Spell at him.

The man's reactions were quicker than Miro had expected. He flicked his wand, muttered an unheard incantation and a section of the ground rose up to protect him. The red beam of the Stunning Spell slammed into and destroyed it in a cloud of dust. He quickly followed up with an attack of his own.

Using his wand to raise the tiles that had struck him high over his head, he flicked his wand so that they were transformed into arrows. He then waved in the direction of Miro. The darts flew at towards the young trainee Auror, bearing down on him, hoping to strike home.

Miro, with sweat glistening on his brow, gestured his wand at the oncoming missiles and as the wave of light blue magic enveloped them they were turned into flowers which harmlessly fell to the ground and crumpled onto the floor. He quickly fired off another spell but this missed its mark completely, leaving an unsightly green blob stuck to the side of one of the surrounding buildings.

The two combatants circled each other once again. Miro was breathing heavily from the exertion and concentration required for the fight. His opponent however didn't seem to be affected by their battle, although from within the confines of the cloak it was difficult to tell anything about the man.

Miro kept his wand aimed at his opponent, while he tried to work out a possible strategy. Unfortunately he wasn't given much time as the man again attacked. Miro's reaction was purely instinctual as he returned fire with his own spell; a beam of electric charge erupted from the end of his wand and arched its way across the square.

The beam connected with the cloaked man's spell which was travelling in the other direction. They met in a ball of extreme magic. Like Miro's, the man's spell was still connected to his wand by a long ray of magic.

Droplets of sweat formed on Miro's head and he tried to force his spell through to its target. He held on hard to his wand with both hands and concentrated on pushing the magic the other way. Beyond the strobing ball of light he could see his opponent doing the same but with much more success.

Realising he was facing a losing battle, which would ultimately drain him of a lot of energy to maintain, Miro did the only thing he could think of. He cancelled his spell with a flick of his wrist and dived down onto the floor as the magic shot over his head and into one of the buildings.

From the ground he quickly used a Summoning Spell on the paving slab below one of the man's feet. It wrenched free of the ground,making the man fall backwards and land heavily on his back. Any advantage Miro had made for himself was quickly lost as he had to dodge out of the way of the quickly approaching stone. By the time he'd aimed his wand at his opponent he could see him already struggling back to his feet.

The cloaked man fired another salvo at him, but Miro dodged to one side and returned fire. However rather than trying to attack directly this time he aimed just in front of the man. The spell shattered the pavement in front of him, sending up shards of broken stone. The man had to pull his arm up in front of his face to protect himself. Miro used this distraction to send a Disarming Spell at him.

The spell struck home and the man's wand flew out of his hand and bounced along the ground. Miro paused in his attacks, expecting the man to surrender. However the man reached into his cloak, pulled out a small vial of liquid and threw it high into the air at Miro.

"Expulso," chanted Miro aiming at the vial as it spiralled through the air. The magic struck home, shattering the vial in an explosion, causing the liquid inside to rain down onto him.

As the droplets of the purple liquid struck his body Miro could feel surges of coldness flood under his skin. He raised his wand to fire off another spell but found that his arm, which was covered in the liquid, remained useless at his side. He could feel the coolness spread over his legs suddenly causing them to go numb and buckle underneath him.

He could do nothing as he lay crumpled on the floor of the square. The twins too, watched helplessly from the sidelines as the cloaked man stooped to pick up his wand before slowly walking towards their friend.

The man stood over Miro looking down at him from within his cowl. He reached up his two hands and held onto the side of the hood and pushed it back.

"Not bad Mr Franca," beamed the man, who had a round friendly face, flushed red from all the exertions of the battle. He waived his wand over the boy, counteracting the effects of the potion, "a thoroughly good confrontation."

"Mr Lexington," groaned Miro straightening his body as he gradually regained control of it, "you do know I have the morning off right?"

"Oh I'm sorry," apologised Lexington sarcastically, "I didn't realise that dark wizards only attack after lunch. What do I keep telling you my old mentor use to say?"

"Constant vigilance," muttered Miro mantra like.

"Constant vigilance," reiterated Mr Lexington, "when you get complacent that's when you get killed."

"Er… Mr Lexington? I don't suppose…" Miro pointed over at Fred and George who were still under the effects of the freezing charm.

"Oh yes, sorry," said Lexington waving his wand in their direction. They both let out extended groans as life started coursing through their bodies once again, "had to immobilise them first, didn't want them getting hurt."

"Lucky them," said Miro massaging his shoulder as he stood up, he looked at the twins, "this is Mr Lexington, one of my Auror instructors. Mr Lexington these are my friends Fred and George Weasley."

"Nice to meet you boys," smiled Lexington nodding at the twins. He turned back to look at Miro, "you had some good moves there. I especially liked the fake Stunning Spell; I'm assuming you cast a nonverbal spell at the same time, that's not easy. Although you did let your guard down at the end, just because someone loses their wand it doesn't make them any less dangerous."

"Yeah I noticed," said Miro looking at the remains of the vial scattered on the ground, "a paralyzing potion?"

"Yep," agreed Lexington nodding, "I thought you'd probably try and blast it in the air. Far too aggressive."

"Why would you even carry it?"

"I always carry a back up of potions," admitted Lexington, he pull aside his cloak to reveal a number of vials of different colours secured to his belt, "I also have a back up wand strapped to my ankle, and a few other magical objects in my pockets. Preparation is the key my lad."

"I'll remember that," said Miro shaking his head.

"Good lad," said Lexington slapping him on the back, "well I'm off for the afternoon so I guess I won't see you again until Monday, have a good weekend, enjoy your cousin's wedding."

"Thanks," said Miro. He suddenly frowned, "how did you know I'm going to my cousin's wedding?"

"I think one of the other students mentioned it," replied Lexington casually.

"Please don't attack me at the wedding," implored Miro.

"Did I say I was going to?"

"No," admitted Miro putting his hands on his hips, "but that is precisely the kind of thing you would do. Remember Callaghan's leaving party the other week?"

"What about it?"

"You leapt out of the cake and started cursing everyone."

"Oh and I suppose a dark wizard is going to leave you alone because you are wearing a little party hat is he?"

"Just please don't attack me during the wedding," pleaded Miro.

"Fine, I won't," conceded Lexington after a moments pause, "well I better be off then, see you around, and nice to meet you two."

"See you later," Miro nodded at his instructor. Lexington spun on the spot and disappeared with a loud cracking sound. Just as he did Miro shouted at him, "wait! Don't attack me at the reception either! Damn it, I hope he heard that."

"Seems like a nice guy," said Fred as the three of them looked at the empty space recently vacated by Lexington.

"Oh he's great," admitted Miro, "just completely and utterly nuts."

"We should probably check with dad to see if he is a relation," said George thoughtfully.

Miro and the twins returned to the bustling main part of Diagon Alley, they managed to locate the rest of the Weasley clan still in Flourish and Blotts. Mrs Weasley had spotted an old friend and they were busy chattering away while the children were busying themselves by reading some of the books; Ron had picked up a copy of a Quidditch book about Chudley Cannons, Ginny was excitedly reading the latest Gilderoy Lockhart book and Percy was busy devouring a book he'd found entitled 'Prefect to Minister – The Biography of Cornelius Fudge.'

"Who's mum talking to?" Fred nudged Ron with his foot.

"I dunno," replied Ron not looking up, "some woman…"

"Your powers of observation sometimes astound me Ronald," George said rolling his eyes, "we can see she is talking to 'some woman' what Fred meant was what her name is?"

"Burns, Bones or something like that," muttered Ron frowning, "her daughter is starting at Hogwarts this year. Can you believe this? It says Chudleys are generally accepted as being the worse team in the league."

"That's blatantly untrue," admitted Fred thoughtfully rubbing his chin, "it's _completely_ accepted."

"Sorry Ron, it's true," agreed Miro sympathetically, "the Chudleys are the worst team ever but they do have the most loyal fans."

"That's true," nodded Ron looking proud, "we are the best."

"I just meant that if any other team played like that week in week out their fans would be up in arms," Miro clarified, "but you Chudsters seem to just accept it."

"Our time is coming," said Ron indignantly, "you'll see. This year you'll see some great Quidditch being played at Chudleigh Stadium."

"Yeah, you aren't wrong there," agreed George, "but it'll be played by their opposition."

"Okay guys," said Miro before an argument could flair up, "I'm gonna be off, say bye to your mother for me. Ron, good luck at Hogwarts."

"See you Miro," chorused the twins.

"Good luck?" Ron's face crinkled up into a frown, "why would he wish me good luck?"

"Well you know," said Fred lowering his voice, "the whole sorting ceremony."

"What about it?" asked Ron wide eyed with panic, "Percy said they just put a hat on you and it decides for you."

"A hat that decides what House you are going in?" George raised an eyebrow sceptically, "does that honestly sound like something that would happen?"

"I thought it was a bit weird," admitted Ron closing the book, "so what happens?"

"We're not supposed to tell you," said George whispering and looking around in case anyone was listening in, "it's a big Hogwarts secret."

"I won't tell anyone," replied Ron leaning close, the level of his voice matching that of his brother, "what do you have to do?"

"You have to go through a test," said Fred solemnly, looking over his shoulder theatrically, "it's supposed to be different for everyone but they are basically the same few things."

"Like what?" asked Ron panicking, "I haven't done any magic yet, how am I supposed to face a test?"

"Well they only let the very best into Hogwarts," reasoned George, "you know they have to make sure there aren't any Squibs."

"But what if you fail the test?" asked Ron horrified at the prospect.

"Then you get sent home on the same day," shrugged Fred, "you get marched straight back onto the Hogwarts' Express and its goodbye forever."

"They kill you?" asked Ron, his voice becoming shrill.

"No, you idiot," said George rolling his eyes, "I mean, you just won't be allowed back to Hogwarts ever again."

"Oh," Ron nodded thoughtfully, "did they send anyone home when you started?"

"Oh yes," said Fred trying to look sympathetic, "there was this one girl, they asked her to walk through fire without getting burned but she couldn't do it. Tried three times and got really badly burnt, but she really wanted to join the school so she kept trying and trying. In the end they had to practically drag her away to stop her from hurting herself to bad."

"Really?"

"Yeah," agreed George shaking his head solemnly, "it was quite sad in the end, she kept asking for one more try and was crying her little heart out bless her."

"That's awful," gasped Ron with a look of terror on his face.

"Shh," ordered George pressing a finger against his mouth, "keep it down will you? If any one finds out we told you we could get expelled."

"Okay okay, sorry," said Ron lowering his voice again, "but what if that happens to me? I don't know how to walk through fire."

"You don't?" asked Fred frowning.

"Of course not," snapped Ron his voice getting higher again, "when would I ever have had a chance to find that out?"

"With us around?" George said thoughtfully. "Probably quite a few times."

"Okay that's actually fair enough," conceded Ron, "but what happens if I'm asked to do it."

"Relax," soothed Fred, "you probably won't be asked to do that."

"Yeah," agreed George, "normally it's something like turn a tree into stone, or make yourself disappear or wrestle a Water-Salamanda to the ground."

"I can't do any of those things," said Ron rather loudly, causing Percy to look up from his reading before frowning and carrying on.

"Don't worry," said Fred, "neither could we before we started but luckily for us Charlie and Bill decided to teach us a few things before school started. We'll do the same for you."

"You will?" said Ron looking relieved "thanks a bunch guys."

"Hey, what are big brothers for?"

The Weasley family eventually left Flourish and Blotts and continued to pick up the various items they each needed for school, soon Mrs Weasley announced that is was time to head back home.

"But we didn't get my wand," complained Ron looking at Ollivander's shop as they passed by.

"Sorry dear," said Mrs Weasley kindly, "we just can't afford to get you a new wand, you're getting Charlie's old one."

"That thing?" asked Ron extremely disappointed, "there's a chip in it and the Unicorn hair is falling out of the end."

"I know," replied Mrs Weasley, "but we just can't replace it at the moment, and it always worked fine for Charlie. Maybe in a few years."

"Fine," muttered Ron looking through the window of the shop with envy, "my robes are hand-me-downs, most of my books are hand-me-down, might as well have a hand-me-down wand too."

"It could be worse," said Fred placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "at least you don't have hand-me-down underwear."

"Actually," Ron sighed, reached inside the waistband of his trousers and pulled up his underwear so show a very neatly place label with the name 'Percy' emblazoned on it.


	4. Ron's Training Session

"Do I really need to do this?" asked Ron wobbling on a long thin plank of wood that the twins had placed between two tree stumps.

"You have to learn balance," Fred pointed out helpfully.

"Fair enough but what about the blindfold?" said Ron pointing up at the cloth wrapped securely over his eyes.

"Because this is all about intuition isn't it?" replied George as a way of explanation, "you're hardly acting intuitively if you can see are you?"

"That depends," shrugged Ron, "what does 'intuitively' mean?"

"It means…" there was a pause as Fred tried best to explain it he looked over at George who just shrugged helpfully, "it means, acting without thinking."

"Ah well I guess that means you two are the perfect choice to teach that to me," muttered Ron.

"Oi," complained George, "just be grateful we are only using apples."

"Yeah," agreed Fred, picking one up from the basket they'd collected from one of the trees surrounding the Burrow and taking aim, "now try and dodge this."

Fred through the fruit with deadly accuracy, it sailed through the air in a perfect arch and rebounded off of Ron's chest. He winced as the apple struck him, although more out of surprise then actual pain.

"I still don't know what throwing fruit at me is supposed to teach me," complained Ron rubbing his chest with his hand.

"What if during your Sorting ceremony they decide to hurl fireballs at you?" George said hands on hips, "are you just going to stand there and let them hit you?"

"No," retorted Ron sulkily, "but I'll at least be able to see them, so I'd have a chance of dodging them."

"That's what you think," replied Fred casually, "when Charlie had his ceremony, they blindfolded him and got him to run across the hall dodging a couple of Bludgers."

"Really?" asked Ron opened mouthed, "that's insane. They can't do that can they?"

"I know, but what are you doing to do? It's not as if you are going to turn around and say 'no' now is it?" said George picking up an apple, "now try and dodge this one."

Ron waited patiently, trying to listen for the sound of the apple's flight. Suddenly he dodged to one side and flailed his arms as he tried to remain on the plank of wood, behind him he heard the apple landing in the soft grass.

"I did it," exclaimed Ron pushing the blindfold up with a wide grin on his face and looking at his brothers, "I thought I could see it coming towards me, and that's when I dodge out of the way."

"Well done Ron," congratulated Fred, despite the fact that George had deliberately thrown the apple up high so that there was no chance of it striking their younger brother anyway, "I told you didn't I? Magic is all about instinct, oh sure you have to wave your wand about to do the spells and stuff but a lot of it is pure gut feeling."

"Brilliant," beamed Ron still on a high after successfully 'dodging' the fruit, "to be honest I thought you two might have been winding me up at first."

"Really?" Us?" said George looking astounded while Fred feigned a look of hurt, "we're your older brothers, it's our job to look out for you."

"Yeah, I know," replied Ron looking a bit embarrassed to have thought so badly of the twins, "I do have one question though."

"Fire away."

"How do they decide what House you go into?" Ron brow creased as he frowned, "I get that the test is to make sure you aren't a Squib but how does that tell them where to put you."

"Oh it's all about how you tackle the trial," explained Fred thinking fast, "so if you think of an intelligent way to beat something you'll be put in Ravenclaw, if you are cunning about it it'll be Slytherin."

"So what did you two have to do?" asked Ron excitedly as he sat down on the plank of wood.

"Well it was pretty straight forward for me," George began. The twins had expected this question to crop up and had worked out their individual stories beforehand. "I was taken up onto the roof of one of the two story buildings on the grounds of the school and I was asked to get between it and other building without touching the ground."

"That doesn't sound too bad," snorted Ron.

"That's what I thought," shrugged George, "until I saw the distance they expected me to jump, it was a good fifteen nearly twenty feet."

"But that's too far," gasped Ron, "they couldn't expect you to have jumped that."

"As I said it's all about how you approach the problem," explained George scratching behind his ear with one hand, "a couple of others were given the same problem, one of them just asked someone to give them a piggyback and walk back down the stairs and over to the other building, they ended up in Hufflepuff. Another person called a House Elf to use their magic to apparate them over, he's a Slytherin now."

"So what did you do?"

"I just ran and jumped."

"You did what?"

"Ran and jumped."

"But that's stupid," scolded Ron rolling his eyes, "you couldn't have made it across. You didn't, did you?"

"No," admitted George, "I think I managed to leap about three quarters of the way across before I hit the ground."

"You fell?" asked Ron, "and they still let you into Hogwarts?"

"Yes, you see while I did fall and land heavily, I didn't actually get hurt. In fact I bounced when I hit the ground so they knew I wasn't a Squib," stated George, "and because I had jumped even though I knew there was a very good chance I wouldn't make it, they said that was brave and put me in Gryffindor."

"Well I guess I won't be in Gryffindor," muttered Ron, "because there is no way I would have tried to jump across like that. So what about you Fred?"

"Me?" said Fred stretching his arms up over his head and yawning, "oh nothing really, just had to battle a dragon."

"A dragon?" both George and Ron exclaimed at once.

"Are you sure it was a dragon?" asked George looking pointedly at his twin who had blatantly come up with a completely different story to the one they had prepared, "are you sure it wasn't something like a family of wood pixies?"

"No, no, it was definitely a dragon," beamed Fred much to his twin's annoyance, "you don't get that close to a dragon and not remember it."

"I can't believe they made you face a dragon," said a shocked Ron shaking his head.

"I know," agreed George slowly through clenched teeth, "it really is something only a complete idiot would think up, now something like I don't know, a family of wood pixies would be a far more sensible and believable suggestion."

"So what did you have to do?" asked Ron excitedly.

"I had to clip off the end of one of its talons without waking it," said Fred trying to see nonchalant.

"Merlin's Beard," said Ron opened mouthed, "are you serious?"

"Completely," nodded Fred in agreement while George rolled his eyes, "I wasn't sure what to do so in the end I just walked straight up and did it, no sneaking around or anything. Just clip and done."

"That is so brave," said Ron looking thoroughly impressed, he turned to look at Fred, "sounds like you got off lightly."

Over the next few days, the twins set Ron a series of trials which gradually became more and more bizarre as they tried to see what they could pretty much get away with. Towards the end the twins had even started to run out of ideas of what they could get their younger brother to try and do. Although Fred's most ingenious plot was getting Ron to clear the gnomes out of the garden to test his speed and stamina (the fact that Mrs Weasley had asked the twins to clear them out earlier was something he'd forgotten to pass on).

The days passed and it wasn't long before the twins, Percy and Ron were all packing their trunks for the start of the school year. Ron had inherited his older brother Charlie's trunk and found that the first thing he had to do was dump out all of his older brother's things that had been left to wallow at the bottom of it. Fred and George had a quick pick through the cast-offs to see if there was anything worth salvaging but since Charlie had already taken all the most useful stuff with him to Romania there was little for them to have.

On the night before they were due to leave for Hogwarts the Weasley family sat down for their traditional farewell dinner. Mrs Weasley had put together a sumptuous feast containing all of their favourite foods which reminded the twins of the meal times at Hogwarts. The table was set, with Mrs Weasley, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny all waiting expectantly around it. Casting a quick look up at the family clock showed that Mr Weasley was currently in the process of returning home, and sure enough a couple of seconds later a faint 'pop' could be heard outside.

"Evening Weasleys," said Mr Weasley opening the door wide and stepping into the kitchen. He was carrying a large cage with a grey cover over it.

"Where have you been?" asked Fred, as his stomach let out a loud rumble, "I'm starving, and what's that?"

"Ah well this is a special surprise," said Mr Weasley excitedly, rocking the cage slightly, "and I had to go and collect it from Diagon Alley. It's for Percy, for being made a prefect."

"For me?" asked Percy looking equally surprised and delighted as his eyes fell onto the covered cage.

"Of course," fussed Mrs Weasley looking at his son with pride, "when Charlie and Bill became prefects we got them something each so it's only fair that you do too."

"What about us?" asked George looking at the covered cage with envy.

"What about you?" countered Mrs Weasley, "if either of you become prefects then you'll get a present too."

"Well there is always a chance…" said Fred hopefully as the cage was put down in the table in front of Percy.

"Go on then," said Mr Weasley beaming, gesticulating expectantly to Percy, "take the cover off."

Percy leaned forward and grabbed the top of the cloth and pulled. His eyes opened wide. Perched proudly in the middle of the cage was a large owl with various different hues of brown feathers and a white underbelly.

"It's beautiful," gasped Percy leaning in close to look at his present, "what's it called?"

"That's for you to choose," said Mr Weasley, "it's a he by the way."

"I'll call him Hermes," stated Percy firmly, he opened the front of the cage and put a hand inside. After looking at it warily for a few seconds the newly named Hermes allowed his owner to gently stroke his feathers, letting out a low appreciative hoot.

"With an owl like that, you might actually be cool this year," admitted Fred thoughtfully.

"Why Hermes?" asked Mrs Weasley as the family crowded around to admire the new addition to the family. The owl clearly enjoyed the attention and maintained an almost regal appearance.

"After Hermes Kanezza the first Head Boy of Hogwarts," beamed Percy still stroking Hermes' feathers.

"Okay, maybe you'll be cool next year," Fred altered his original assessment.

"How do you even know stuff like that?" George wondered out loud.

"It's in Hogwarts: a History," Percy replied haughtily, "not that I'd have expected you to know that of course since it would have involved reading a book, rather than using it to prop open your bedroom window."

"If you can think of a better way to create a cool breeze in our room without using magic then feel free to let me know," George countered superbly.

"Enough," Mrs Weasley ordered calmly, she took the owl cage off of the table and carefully encouraged Hermes to jump out onto the kitchen counter. She shooed it towards the far end of the room where the family's owl, Errol, was quietly snoozing on a perch, "it's okay, go sit on the perch next to Errol."

After a few moments realisation of what Mrs Weasley wanted dawned on Hermes, who hopped along the counter a couple of time before flapping his wings and landing gracefully on the perch. Unfortunately the noise of the younger owl flapping its wings woke Errol with such a start that he lost his balance, and, despite flapping desperately to right himself, ended up dropping backwards from the perch. However Errol momentarily forgot to loosen his grip from the piece of wood and suddenly found himself hanging up-side-down facing the wall, his wings flapping frantically while Hermes looked down at him from the perch.

"Thanks mum, thanks dad," gushed Percy giving both his parents a hug. He looked over at Ron, just as a faint thud from the corner of the room signalled that Errol's feet had finally decided to let go of the perch without first telling his wings to keep him airborne, "if you want you can have Scabbers."

"Cheers," nodded Ron trying to sound enthusiastic. Although he thought it would be nice to have a pet, he couldn't help noting that this was another hand-me-down from one of his brothers.

"It's okay," Fred whispered to his younger brother, "George and I will teach you a spell to change Scabbers' colour, you'll have the only yellow rat at school."

"Cool," commented Ron seeming happier.

"Okay everyone, sit back down," said Mrs Weasley sitting at one end of the table while her husband took his place at the head of it.

"Brilliant I'm starving," said Ron reaching for the nearest plate of food.

"Ah ah ah," scolded Mrs Weasley batting Ron's hand away from the food and pointedly picking up her drink, "I think a toast is in order."

"Yes, quite so," agreed Mr Weasley reaching for his glass before standing up, "firstly, once again, congratulations to Percy for becoming the third Weasley in a row to be made a prefect."

"Well done Percy," added Mrs Weasley as everyone took a sip of their drink.

"Wait a minute," said Fred dramatically with a look of shock on his face, "Percy has been made a prefect? This is the first I've heard about it. Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Quick, I'll tell the Daily Prophet to hold the front page," added George.

"Very funny you two," reproached Mrs Weasley. She patted Percy on the arm, "ignore them, we're very proud of you. All of us are."

"Yes we are," added Mr Weasley, still with his glass raised, "now where was I?"

"Oh God," groaned George under his breath, "not the 'first day of school speech' again is it?"

"Ron," said Mr Weasley turning to his youngest son, "tomorrow you will embark on a great adventure."

"Merlin's Beard it is," muttered Fred rolling his eyes.

"Every generation of Weasley has attended Hogwarts…" Mr Weasley began to get up steam as he repeated the same speech he'd used previously for Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins.

"I thought he might have forgotten about it this time," admitted George quietly as his father carried on.

"Yeah, but I think that was wishful thinking," agreed Fred. "I think the fact that we can all recite it by now should say something."

"…a solid educational foundation is what you need to build your life on..."

"Here comes the bit that mum starts tearing up on," George pointed out, nodding towards Mrs Weasley, "here we go."

"Without Hogwarts, I would never have met your dear mother…"

"She's gone," commented Fred softly as Mrs Weasley started dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief that had been tucked into her sleeve.

"Every time," said George shaking his head, "you'd think she'd have got used to it by now."

"Oh, this is a new bit," admitted Fred as Mr Weasley began to talk about the children who had already attended or were currently attending the school.

"Bill has become a curse-breaker, Charlie is following his dream in Romania, Percy is now a prefect and Fred and George…" there was an awkward pause as Mr Weasley tried to work out what he could say that would be appropriate.

"Quidditch team," coughed Mrs Weasley helpfully.

"…are on the Quidditch team," carried on Mr Weasley without skipping a beat, "no doubt, you too Ron, will achieve great things in your time amongst those hallowed halls. To Ron."

"To Ron," the rest of the family chorused toasting the boy.

"Very nice dear," commented Mrs Weasley as everyone began dishing food out onto their plates.

"Yeah good one dad," agreed Fred dishing out some mashed potato onto his plate, before drowning it in gravy, "you're getting better at them."

"Only one more to go," said George picking up a chicken leg and waving it in the direction of Ginny before gnawing on it hungrily.

"Ew," muttered Ginny frowning and looking away as her brother chomped down on the meat.

"George, use your cutlery," scolded Mrs Weasley shaking her head and pointing at his knife and fork, "honestly I don't know where you get it from."

The family looked along the table to where Mr Weasley had grasped a chicken leg in his hand and was in the middle of noisily taking a large bite out of it.

"Oh that's lovely," said Mr Weasley swallowing the mouthful off food, he suddenly became aware that the rest of his family were looking at him. His eyes flicked between each of his children and then finally settled on his wife, "sorry, did you say something dear?"


	5. Harry Potter

Despite all the warnings that Mrs Weasley had given the night before to her children to have everything ready for the journey to King's Cross, it still took the family a number of attempts to leave the House with everything in tow. They would have been late had it not been for Mr Weasley's creative driving skills at weaving through the traffic, although the twins did notice that he jabbed at a number of different buttons he'd recently installed in the dashboard which they suspected help him negotiate his way through the traffic.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to see you off this year," explained Mr Weasley as he slalomed between a number of cars, "have a big meeting in work so I'll literally just have to drop you off and go."

"That's okay dad," replied Percy, casting a side long look at the twins, "I'll make sure everything runs smoothly."

"It's not like we haven't done this before," muttered Fred lowly to his twin.

"We're nearly there," said Mr Weasley, pulling the car in a gap between two buses which initially seemed far too small to fit through but offered no problem as they passed by.

Mr Weasley pulled the car into a spare loading bay outside of the station. The family piled out of the old blue Ford Anglia and quickly began unloading the boot of the car onto a number of trolleys, before waving the patriarch of the family off on his way as he returned to the driver's seat and started the car up again.

Mrs Weasley, holding tightly onto Ginny's hand, led the way into the station as the family formed a procession of trolleys behind her. Hermes, in a cage on top of Percy's trunk, squawked agitatedly as they entered the crowded building.

"One time," commented Mrs Weasley, as they made their way down one of the platforms, passed dark haired boy whose trolley as packed with luggage as their's were, "I would just like to get here with plenty of time to spare. Honestly we'll miss the train one of these days. It's always so crowded, packed with muggles of course, still can't complain I suppose."

Mrs Weasley paused and looked up at the plastic numbered boards above their heads, "now what's the platform number?"

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped Ginny, she squeezed her mother's hand, "Mum, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet," replied Mrs Weasley, who'd been putting up with this request from her daughter since breakfast, "All right, Percy, you go first."

Percy pushed his trolley forward towards the wall and disappeared through to the other side.

"Fred, you're next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," replied Fred rolling his eyes. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother. Can't you tell I'm George."

"Sorry George dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," he stated pushing his trolley forward.

"Hurry up," ordered George, following his twin close behind.

The sound of the platform washed over them as they arrived on the other side of the secret entranceway. The twins quickly moved so as not to block the way for the rest of their family. They could see a number of familiar faces amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Lee Jordan waved at them from the centre of a small crowd of students which included fellow Gryffindor third years Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. Their dreadlocked friend was beaming as he pointed to the box he was holding in his hand.

"That must be that tarantula his uncle got him," Fred nodded towards his friend.

George nodded in agreement as his gaze flittered along the platform as he tried to spy other people he knew. His attention was drawn to a young black haired boy who was struggling on his own to get his oversized trunk up into the train.

"Want a hand?" George asked.

"Yes, please," replied the boy looking grateful.

"Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!" George called to his brother.

"By Godric," complained Fred as the three boys worked together to hoist the trunk up the steps of the train, "what have you got in here?"

Eventually they managed to half carry half drag the trunk into the carriage. A beautiful snowy white owl watched them from its cage as they at last tucked it away in the corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said the boy, pushing a hand through his hair to move it away from his eyes, as he did so a small but distinct lightening bolt scar was visible on his forehead.

"What's that?" asked Fred pointing at it.

"Blimey," said George before the young boy could answer, "are you…"

"He is," said Fred smiling "aren't you?"

"What?" replied the boy.

"Harry Potter," chorused the boys.

"Oh him," said the boy, "I mean, yes I am."

The twins suddenly found themselves dumbstruck and unable to say anything. Instead they found themselves just staring at Harry who stood there with a look of obvious discomfort about the whole thing.

"Fred, George, are you there?" the voice of Mrs Weasley filtered onto the train.

"Coming mum," they replied, giving Harry one last look before jumping off the train and back onto the platform, where their mother was accosting Ron with a handkerchief to try and remove some dirt from his nose.

"Mum, geroff," Ron complained, finally managing to wriggle free from her grasp.

"Ahh, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie," said George in a teasing baby voice.

"Shut up," countered Ron, rubbing his nose with his hand.

"Where's Percy?" asked Mrs Weasley looking down the platform.

"He's coming now," responded Fred nodding towards their approaching brother, who had already changed into his Hogwarts' robes. Fred suspected this was due to the fact that he could now display his shiny prefect's badge prominently on his chest.

"Can't stay long mother," Percy said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves…"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" interrupted George pretending to act surprised, "you should have said something about it, we had no idea."

"Hang on," added Fred tapping his lips thoughtfully with a finger, "I think I remember him saying something about it."

"Once…"

"Or twice…"

"A minute…"

"All summer…"

"Oh, shut up," snapped Percy looking annoyed.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said George prodding his older brother in the shoulder.

"Because he's a prefect," replied Mrs Weasley, "all right dear, well have a good term. Send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek; he gave one more withering look at his brothers before heading back up towards the front of the train. Mrs Weasley turned to the twins, "now you two, this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've… you've blown up a toilet or…"

"Blown up a toilet?" Fred chimed in, "we've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though," admitted George, "thanks, mum."

"It's not funny," Mrs Weasley said warningly, she looked fondly at her youngest son, "and look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us," Fred said ruffling his brother's hair.

"Shut up," Ron retorted battering Fred's hand away and trying to smooth back down his hair.

"Hey mum," said George eagerly, ignoring Ron's look of annoyance, "guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?" Fred nodded his head back in the direction of where they'd help Harry onto the train.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!" exclaimed Fred, Ginny let out a delighted squeal.

"Oh mum, can I go on the train and see him?" asked Ginny excitedly jumping up and down, "mum? Please?"

"You've already seen him Ginny," stated Mrs Weasley firmly, "and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really Fred?" How do you know?"

"Asked him," stated Fred smiling, "saw his scar. It's really there; like lightning."

"Poor dear," said Mrs Weasley looking deeply concerned, "no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that," dismissed Fred waving his hand, "do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"I forbid you to ask him Fred," warned Mrs Weasley looking serious, "No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."

"All right," said Fred holding his hands up defensively, "keep your hair on."

A loud whistle emanated from the front of the train, and parents quickly began ushering their children on board and biding them goodbye.

"Hurry up," ordered Mrs Weasley, practically pushing the three boys on board. They, reluctantly, leaned out so she could give each of them a kiss on the cheek, while Ginny began to cry.

"Don't Ginny," said Fred rolling his eyes, "we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts' toilet seat," added George.

"George!"

"Only joking, mum."

The train pulled slowly out of the station while Ginny tried to keep up along side and wave them off. It soon rounded a corner and the platform disappeared from view. Ron sidled down the corridor and pulled open the door to one of the carriages and stepped inside.

"Did you see where Lee got on?" George asked his twin.

"Further down the train," Fred pointed along the corridor, "near the middle I think."

"Hey Ron," said George sticking his head into the carriage their younger brother had entered. It was the same one that they'd helped Harry Potter move his belongings into earlier, "listen, we're going down the middle of the train, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there.

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry," said Fred over his brother's shoulder, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother, See you later then."

The twins left their brother in the compartment and walked along the corridor of the train. Outside, as the train began to pick up speed, the various buildings in London were whistling by the window. Finally, after looking in a number of carriages, the twins found their friends.

"You'll never guess who we just met?" said George as they slid open the door to the compartment that Lee, Alicia and Angelina, were occupying.

"Who?" asked Lee as the tarantula in the box once again tried to force the lid open with one of its long hairy legs, making Alicia shudder slightly.

"Potter," beamed Fred.

"_Harry_ Potter?"

"No," frowned Fred, "Steve Potter, lead singer of the Screaming Banshees. Of course Harry Potter, know any other famous Potter due to start at Hogwarts?"

"How do you know it was him?" asked Angelina, as the twins sprawled themselves down into the free seats.

"We saw his scar," explained George tapping his finger on the protruding leg of the tarantula causing it to withdraw itself back into the box.

"The lightning bolt one on his head?"

"What other one would he have?" replied George shaking his head, "honestly Lee, you are a bit slow today."

"Give me a break," yawned Lee covering his mouth with his hand, "I had to get up really early this morning, plus I'd been up all night with Reginald, I think he is coming down with something he keeps losing his hair."

"You called it Reginald?" asked Alicia raising an eyebrow while looking down at the box in Lee's hand.

"Yeah after my Uncle, he got it for me."

"He must be so proud," replied Alicia frowning slightly.

"So what's he like?" asked Angelina eagerly..

"Oh he's great," explained Lee enthusiastically, "he can spin a web in no time, and I think I've almost taught him how to beg for food."

"What?" Angelina's brow crinkled in momentary confusion, "no, not your spider, I meant Harry Potter, what's he like?"

"Seems alright I guess," shrugged George, "didn't really say much."

"Probably a bit big headed," explained Alicia, "you know what these celebrities are like."

"Oh yeah," agreed Fred, "Ottery St Catchpole is just teaming with celebrities; I can't walk down our lane without bumping into them."

"You know what I mean," reiterated Alicia before adding thoughtfully, "I wonder if he remembers anything about that night."

"I dunno, probably not seeing as he was only a baby at the time," replied Lee.

"Our mum actually banned us from asking him about it," shrugged George.

"Not that it matters," said Fred scratching the back of his neck, "our brother Ron is in the same carriage as him. No doubt he'll ask him about it, he's a subtle as a brick."

"So I guess red hair isn't the only thing that runs in your family," grinning Angelina. She changed her gaze to Lee who was casually stroking one of tarantula legs poking out of the top of the box, "Lee, seriously pack that _thing_ away, the last thing you want is it escaping on the train."

"I suppose you're right," sighed Lee, he pulled out some string from his pocket and wrapped it tightly around the box which had a number of air-holes punched into the side of it.

The group spent most of the journey talking about Harry Potter, this soon translated to the entire train talking about as the twins eagerly informed anyone who happened to be passing by their carriage that he was aboard. Most people seemed to be very interested in this snippet of news, and soon the twins had become the unofficial spokespeople for the boy despite only having briefly met him.

"Is he tall?" asked one girl from Ravenclaw who the twin's had never once spoken to but who had now been hovering outside their compartment for the last half hour firing questions at the twins, "I bet he's tall."

"Oh yes," agreed George nodding wholeheartedly, "he's nearly six foot tall."

"What colour eyes does he have?" asked another girl, this time from Hufflepuff.

"Er… brown," Fred answered taking a wild stab in the dark.

The barrage of questions continued for a while, with the twins making up more and more ridiculous answers until their audience decided that they probably weren't the most reliable source for information and began filtering back to their own compartments. The group settled back into their seats while they continued the journey to Hogwarts, aside from being interrupted by a bushy haired girl and a round faced boy looking for a missing toad, they were left alone for the rest of the trip.

The train eventually pulled itself into Hogsmeade station, by now it was getting late and the Sun had already dropped over the horizon leaving a dark sky with numerous twinkling stars. Everyone, aside from the first years who Hagrid had taken to the lake, waited patiently to board the horseless carriages which took them up to the school.

By the time they'd reached the Great Hall, it was already very packed, and a low hum of excited conversation echoed around the room. The third years all grouped together along one of the tables and took the opportunity to wave, or in the twins' case shout, hello across to other students sitting further away from them.

Soon the last of the students filtered into the room and everyone took their seats while they waited for the first years to arrive. McGonagall, dressed in her usual emerald-green robes, approached and stood at the threshold of the Great Hall and looked towards there head table where Dumbledore sat. He gave her a slight nod and she disappeared from the doorway.

A few minutes later she was back with the group of fresh faced first years, all looking thoroughly nervous. Along with their brother Ron, the twins noticed the boy and girl toad hunters from earlier were also present in the pack. Not that it made any difference. A twelve foot monster with two heads and four arms could have been in the group and it still would have gone unnoticed compared to the biggest distraction.

"Is that him?"

"Which one is Potter?"

Everyone was talking in low voices, trying not to draw the disapproving look of McGonagall as she led the students up to the top of the room where the teacher's table sat.

"Look at Ron's face," George whispered to his brother, "he looks like he is going to faint at any minute."

"Well I suppose that is to be expected," admitted Fred, "we did convince him he was going to have to wrestle a troll or something."

The group stopped in a line facing the rest of the students, while they had their backs to the teacher's table. In front on them McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool before sitting the Sorting Hat upon it. The first years watched with a mixture of awe and anxiety as the hat suddenly sprang into life and began to croon its traditional song.

When it had finished the whole hall burst into applause as the Sorting Hat bowed appreciatively to each of the four House tables before becoming still once again.

"What do you reckon? Ravenclaw?" asked George as the twins and Lee started playing the game of guess which House the first year belongs too. They had yet to decide on a catchier name for the pastime. The first new student was called forward; Hannah Abbott, a pinked faced girl with blonde pigtails.

"Na," disagreed Fred, "did you just she her stumble when she was called? Hufflepuff all the way I tell you."

Fred's guess was confirmed moments after the Sorting Hat was lowered onto the girl's head. Hufflepuff table gave a loud cheer while the other tables joined in with polite applause. The game continued through each of the first years, until the first Gryffindor was named; a girl by the name of Lavender Brown. The table erupted with cheers, while Fred and George banged their hands on the table and added the odd wolf-whistle for good measure. The names continued to be called out and the group of unsorted first years dwindled until there was only a handful left.

"Potter, Harry!" called McGonagall, instantly the whispered began snaking their way around the room.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

Despite the twins attempt to inform the whole school whilst on the Hogwarts' Express, it seemed that there was still a number of people who didn't realise that Harry Potter was starting that year. Everyone craned their necks to try and get a good look at him just as the Sorting Hat dropped down onto his head and over his eyes.

"_That's_ Harry Potter?" said Angelina sounding a bit disappointed, "you said he was nearly six foot tall."

"I decided to round up to the nearest foot," explained George shrugging.

"So how tall are you?"

"Nearly six foot."

"Idiot."

Before George could argue the Sorting Hat exclaimed, "Gryffindor!" The majority of the table jumped to their feet as they cheered.

"We've got Potter!" chanted the delighted twins as Percy, who had been seated next to the new first years to welcome them to the House, shook the young boy's hand before he sat down next to Nearly Headless Nick.

"I can't believe we got him," said Lee beaming as the Sorting Ceremony continued.

"Got him? He's not a wizard card you know," complained Alicia rolling her eyes.

"True," agreed Fred, "I doubt we'd be able to swap him for an original Merlin card for a start."

"We could try," said George thoughtfully, before shaking his head, "now we're just being silly."

"Well at least you finally realised it," said Alicia.

"Yeah," agreed George, "no one would ever swap an original Merlin card."

The second to last person to be sorted was the twins' younger brother Ron, who was now looking thoroughly nervous and a rather pale shade of green. The hat was lowered onto his head and it more or less instantly called out, "Gryffindor!"

"Well I guess that shows the Sorting Hat can't be right all the time," commented George clapping along with the rest of the table.

"Yeah," agreed Fred, "if anyone in our family had Hufflepuff written all over them it would be Ron."

"What makes you say that?" asked Angelina as Ron took his seat with the rest of the first years.

"Well," said George scratching his chin, "we pinned him down the other day and wrote Hufflepuff all over him."


	6. Messages From Home

The usual excitement of the first few days back at Hogwarts had been intensified by the presence of the famed Harry Potter, which in turn seemed to increase the standing of every Gryffindor student in the school by way of association. Those students in the other three Houses were constantly questioning their counterparts on what he was like, did he remember anything about Voldemort, where has he been, but in most cases people would have to admit that they hadn't really had much of a chance to talk to him. Of course these people weren't Fred and George, who delighted in revealing every facet of the first year's life without having to worry about simple things such as facts or the truth.

"Oh yes," nodded Fred as he and George spoke enthusiastically to two fourth year Ravenclaw girls who, up until last year, had treated the twins with rather a bit of disdain but, on finding out they personally knew Harry Potter, suddenly adapted their view of the twins to rather interesting.

"He completely remembers confronting You-Know-Who," admitted George looking serious, "if fact he went into a lot of detail about the whole thing the first night he was here."

"Really?" asked one the astounded girls, Valerie Huffington. Her eyes opened wide in awe.

"Really," agreed Fred smiling, "we'll be happy to retell the whole story to you after Quidditch practice."

"Oh, did we mention we were on the Quittich team?" beamed George trying to look casual about the whole thing.

"No, but we knew that already," replied the second girl, who the twins had learnt was called Catherine Margo.

"You did?" George answered looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Well, you are two redheaded twins," said Catherine nodding towards George's hair, "it's not really that difficult to spot you during a game."

"We do make for pretty impressive viewing when we are in full flow on our brooms," Fred winked at the two girls.

"Fred! George!" Angelina called down the corridor, she was standing next to Alicia and both of them had their brooms slung over their shoulders, "are you coming or not? You're gonna be late."

"Who's that?" asked Valerie, her brow crinkled as she frowned at the intruders, "your girlfriends?"

"They wish," said George waving at the two Gryffindor Chasers, "they've been asking us out since our first year, but they are a bit to immature for us."

"Didn't you get put in detention the other day for sliding down the banisters while doing an impression of a chicken?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"No," said George shaking his head, "I'll think you find it was an impression of a turkey."

"Right," said Valerie slowly, "look, we'd better get going."

"So we'll see you after Quiddich practice then?" asked Fred.

"Well, we've a lot of homework to be getting on with," admitted Catherine, "maybe another time."

The twins watched as the two girls disappeared down the corridor.

"You had to slide down the banister didn't you?" muttered Fred shaking his head as he stooped to pick up his broom.

"Lee bet me I wouldn't," replied George as he too retrieved his broom from its resting place, "besides what was with that 'impressive viewing when we are in full flow' nonsense."

"That wasn't nonsense," retorted Fred as the two of them made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, "we do look impressive."

"Take your time why don't you?" said Oliver sarcastically as the twins finally arrived at the pitch alongside the rest of the team, "it's not like we have better things to be doing than waiting for you."

"Really?" asked George, "because I'm a bit tired and if it's okay I could probably do with a nap."

"Hey if he's allowed a nap then so am I," added Fred.

"No one is having a nap," Oliver stated firmly. He rubbed his temple with his fingers; over the summer he'd forgotten how difficult it was to manage the twins, "we're just having a bit of a run out today to see if everyone has gotten rusty over the summer."

"Who's replacing Miro?" asked Alicia, counting the other members of the team in her head, "and what about a Seeker?"

"I'm holding tryouts in the next few days to fill those positions," admitted Oliver, "although I'm thinking that Katie Bell did quite well during the tryouts last year so she'll be a good bet to replace Miro. We could have a problem coming up with a replacement Seeker though, last year no one came close to being as good as Charlie in the tryouts."

"What about the first years? There might be someone good in there," said Angelina bouncing the Quaffle in her hand.

"I doubt it," shrugged Oliver, "there hasn't been a first year in a Quidditch team for over a hundred years. I suppose it is always a possibility though, but we can instantly discount those from muggle backgrounds since we need someone who can fly a broom. Hey, your brother is a Gryffindor isn't he? What's his name? Russ?"

"You mean Ron?" asked George looking sceptical.

"That's it, Ron," nodded Oliver looking excited, "is he any good? I mean Charlie was a fantastic player and from what I hear Bill was pretty good too."

"Ahem," coughed Fred theatrically.

"Yes," said Oliver rolling his eyes, "you two are alright as well I suppose, when you aren't being pains of course."

"Of course," agreed Fred, "anyway as far as Ron is concerned I wouldn't be holding my breath, we normally make him play in goal at home so I don't think he'll make a good Seeker."

"Oh well," said Oliver looking a bit crestfallen, "hopefully someone will turn up for the tryouts who didn't last year."

"That's the spirit," George punched his team captain playfully on the arm, "nothing like brimming with optimism to instil confidence in the team."

The practice seemed to be straightforward enough; as Oliver had iterated before, it wasn't really a full-on practice but more of a relaxed bit of session so that they could all get use to playing with each other again. The twins had sensed this lack of discipline on Oliver's part early on and had taken to messing around whilst on their brooms, much to the amusement of Alicia and Angelina.

"You're such an idiot," laughed Angelina as Fred hung upside-down on his broom, his legs folded over the top of it as he caught a pass from his brother. "What happens if you fall off?"

"It's okay," said Alicia, catching the Quaffle as Fred threw it to her awkwardly, "he'll only land on his head, it's not as if it'll do any damage."

"Of course it'll do damage," complained George, heroically leaping to the defence of his brother, "it'll probably dent the pitch for a start."

The light soon began to fail and it wasn't long before it became too dark to play. The five Quidditch players wandered back towards the school with their brooms slung over their shoulders as Oliver carried the Quaffle under his arm. They chatted animatedly about the various Quidditch games they had each been to in recent years and quickly found themselves stepping through the archway back into the school.

"All right Mr Filch?" George asked the caretaker who was busy mopping a patch of floor.

"What do you want?" snapped Filch. His immediate thought of handing out punishments for them being out of their House was quickly extinguished as his eyes flickered towards the brooms on the students shoulders and realised they were coming back from Quidditch practice.

"Just seeing how our favourite member of staff is doing," Fred pointed out kindly.

"How I'm doing?" spat Filch waving the end of the mop at the two boys, "How I'm doing? I'm doing bloody marvellous considering you lot left me to rot in that tomb in Eqypt."

"That wasn't our fault," said George, recalling their exploits during the school trip the previous year. Oliver, Angelina and Alicia decided that this was probably the best time for them to slip away back up to Gryffindor House. "Enoch said that the exit was only one way and that they had to wait for you to decide to find your way out."

"You'd think someone would have told me that wouldn't you?" retorted Filch dunking his mop back into the bucket of dirty water.

"We didn't know," countered George shrugging his shoulders.

"Or you could have come back to find me before you left the tomb," added Filch bitterly.

"Ah well yeah I suppose we could have," admitted Fred reluctantly, this was followed by an awkward silence which was finally ended by George.

"So how long…"

"Three days," snorted Filch.

"_Three _days?" asked the twins in unison.

"And nights," added Filch.

"Why did you wait so long?" enquired George frowning.

"Oh I don't know," replied Filch sarcastically, "it might have had something to do with the fact that there were a bunch of nutters on the outside ready to kill me as well as giant bugs and monsters made of dirt roaming around the tunnels. All in all staying put seemed like the smartest idea at the time."

"Yeah, but three days?"

"I was half dead from thirst by the time I came stumbling out of that cave," grumbled Filch, "and I'm blaming you two for all of that, you and your uncle."

"How is it our fault?" asked Fred looking across at his equally astounded brother.

"If you and your stupid uncle hadn't gone on that idiotic treasure hunt I would have been all safe and cosy staying here at the school."

"Er… we didn't make you follow us," George pointed out.

"Yeah? Well…" Filch stuttered holding a finger up warningly as he thought of the best possible comeback that would put the twins in their place, "… shut up."

"Well it's been a pleasure as always Mr Filch," smiled George much to the caretaker's annoyance, "but I think it is getting late so we'll be heading off to bed."

"Good night Mr Filch," said Fred waving his spare hand as the twins left the caretaker alone with his work. Fred pointed to a spot on the floor as they were leaving, "by the way, you missed a bit."

"I can't believe him sometimes," complained George as the two boys made their way up the stairs, "if he hadn't been sneaking around, listening in on conversations that had nothing to do with him then he wouldn't have got stuck in that tomb. Yet somehow, it is all our fault."

"I know," agreed Fred as they rounded the corner and waited patiently for the top of the stairs to stop moving to a new place, "I wouldn't mind if we'd stuck him in a tomb deliberately, but getting blamed for something that we didn't do, it's just so wrong."

"Exactly, although to be fair if we had thought of it, we probably would have done it," admitted George thoughtfully.

The twins soon reached the portrait of the fat lady and gave the appropriate password to be allowed into the House. There was only a few occupants left in the room including Lee Jordan who was sitting in one of the chairs, with his leg flopped over one of the armrests while he read from a large and colourful book entitled '_Chudley Cannons – Why?_'

"Hiya guys," he called over the top of the book, "good practice?"

"Yeah it was pretty easy," admitted George dropping down into one of the chairs and resting his broom against the side of a table."

"Pretty easy?" frowned Lee, "Oliver must be going soft in his old age."

"Oi enough of the 'old' thank you very much," snapped Oliver as he stepped out from the stairway up to the boys' dormitories, "I'm in the prime of life I'll have you know."

"Yeah, it's all down hill from here for you," said Fred from the comfy recess of his chair. "So what's that?"

"It's a notice about the Quidditch tryouts," said Oliver holding up a piece of parchment before securing it to the notice board, "I expect you two to be there."

"Why do we have to tryout?" said Fred looking annoyed.

"No, I don't mean you have to tryout," explained Oliver reading a few of the other notices, "I just want you there to help me decide who should fill the Chaser and Seeker spots. Angelina and Alicia are helping out too."

"It's on a Saturday morning," George complained having stood up to read the notice himself, "do you really need us there?"

"No, not really," admitted Oliver shrugging.

"Good."

"Although I guess that means I'll have to change the notice so that it'll say the tryouts are for the Beater positions as well," said Oliver thoughtfully, preparing to take down the parchment.

"Steady on Oliver," George put his hand on the parchment to stop it from being taken off of the board, "if it is that important to you, then Fred will be there."

"Just Fred?"

"Fine," sighed George, "I'll be there too, although I don't know why I'll be needed if Fred is there."

"That's easy," replied Oliver, pushing the parchment back into place, "with both of you there I don't have to worry that either of you are going to end up in detention and miss practice."

"Hey," responded Fred from his chair, "I'll have you know that we hardly ever get detention any more."

"Only because you don't get caught," explained Oliver.

"What more do you want?"

"Er... how about you don't do stuff that'll get you into trouble in the first place?"

"I don't get it," admitted Fred frowning.

"Yeah, where's the fun in that?" asked George looking equally puzzled.

The following morning, in the Great Hall, there was a buzz along the Gryffindor table as the majority of the students had read the notice about the Quidditch tryouts and were keen to compete for a place.

"Oh, heads up," said Lee looking up at the windows from his breakfast. A large number of owls swooped in from above carrying various packages and letters to the addressees along the table. Everyone reached out to grab their post as it was dropped from above, some with varying degrees of success compared to others.

"It's only a letter," said Lee looking down at Fred who was now sprawled on his back having stretched out to catch an envelope and promptly fallen backwards off of the bench.

"That's not the point Lee," winced Fred as he pushed himself up from the ground, "how would it have looked if I, the star player of our Quidditch team, were to have missed catching it?"

"Whereas being slumped on the floor is so much better?"

"Exactly," said Fred finally getting back into his seat. He looked down at the envelope, frowned and handed it to Lee, "oh, it's for you."

"Thanks."

"I caught ours," said George helpfully, holding up four letters. He passed two across to Fred while he opened one of the others and began to read.

"Cheers," said Fred ripping the first one opened, "oh it's from Charlie… 'having a great time… yada-yada-yada-yada… Romania lovely this time of year…blah blah blah… dragon burn… all the best.' Seems to be enjoying himself. Who's have you got?"

"From mum," said George, not looking up from his letter.

"What does she say?" asked Fred pulling open the second letter, which turned out to be from their other brother Bill.

"It's not so much of a letter as it is a list of crimes and other things she found in our room," admitted George, "she found our exploding joke door knob we bought from Zonko's last year."

"I thought I'd lost that," replied Fred thoughtfully, reading from his own letter, "apparently Bill is re-examining that tomb of Kai, there is a lot of excitement about it. Wonder if we'll get any reward for discovering it in the first place."

"Well technically Filch was the first one to find it," George pointed out. "Damn, mum found our stack of dungbombs hidden in the garden; apparently the gnomes had got hold of them."

"What would gnomes want with dungbombs?" asked Fred, "anyway, Filch was only first down into the tomb because you pushed...."

"Accidentally bumped," George corrected his brother.

"Sorry, 'accidentally bumped' him," Fred finished his previous sentence using his brothers amended phrase.

"Apparently mum's favourite casserole dish is missing and she thinks we might know something about it," George informed his brother, "how's Bill getting along anyway?"

"Oh fine," admitted Fred, "aside from the Kai tomb, they have found another excavation site so it looks like he is going to be busy for the next while at least."

"Can you check these for me?" said George passing the letter from their mum over to his brother, "to be honest I can't remember doing half this stuff."

"Sure, lets have a look," Fred ran his finger down the letter, "yep, that was us, and that, oh god that was definitely us, remember? We had to leave our windows open over night to get rid of the smell."

"Oh yeah, the casserole dish was ruined," George said remembering. He picked up the last letter and pulled it from the envelope, "hey, this one is from Enoch."

"How's he getting on?" asked Lee who, like most of the students at Hogwarts, had come to like the twins' uncle very much during his time as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"You know Enoch," replied George, "he's not happy unless he is up to his neck in trouble."

"Sounds familiar."

"Yeah, Fred seems to take after him a lot," admitted George continuing to read from the letter, "it looks like Enoch is having fun, something about a bit of problem with the authorities down in South America, says it's just a misunderstanding… oh hello Professor."

George had stopped reading as the head of Gryffindor House was standing next to him with her arms folded and her lips pressed tightly together.

"I was wondering if you two gentlemen could help me with something," she said looking between Fred and George.

"We'll do our best Professor," replied Fred trying to look helpful.

"Yesterday afternoon, whilst I was gazing out of my window I noticed a very strange sight indeed," McGonagall continued, "it appeared to be one of the school owls struggling to carry a package that looked very much like a wrapped up toilet seat. Of course this seemed rather odd to me, so I asked Mr Filch to check each and every toilet in the school to see if any were missing and can you guess what he found?"

"Er…" George was on the verge of making some joking remark but catching one look at Professor McGonagall's face was enough to convince him that it probably wouldn't have been the wisest course of action.

"He found that in the third floor boys toilets one of them was missing a seat, I don't suppose that either of you would know anything about this?"

"It's news to us Professor," replied George exuding complete innocence from every pore.

"Yes I thought as much," admitted McGonagall, "which is why I decided to dispatch a quick letter of my own to your mother."

"You did?" asked Fred slowly, a slight knot forming in his stomach.

"Yes, it very simply stated that if by pure chance a Hogwarts' toilet seat does get delivered to your house that she should let me know immediately along with who sent it. Destruction of school property is looked on very dimly here."

"It's looked on dimly by us too," replied George still managing to maintain a look of purity.

"I'm glad that is the case," McGonagall stated before heading off towards the kitchen table.

"I thought you said we wouldn't get caught," hissed George once the Transfiguration teacher had moved out of earshot.

"How was I to know that she'd be looking out of her window?" countered Fred hurriedly. "Or that she would asked Filch to check the toilets?"

"We'll have to ask Ginny to hide it," reasoned George, "do you reckon if we sent an owl now it would get there before the other one?"

"It left yesterday," said Fred shaking his head, "even carrying the toilet seat wouldn't slow it down that much."

"Damn," swore George, "how else could we get a message to Ginny?"

"Through the Floo-Network," stated Lee quickly.

"Right," said Fred looking serious, "I'll head through one of the tunnels to Hogsmeade, sneak into one of the buildings and use their Floos to quickly go home. I tell Ginny to hide the seat if it arrives. While you tell Quirrel that I wasn't feeling well and have gone to see Madam Pomfrey. Of course we'll have to work out a plan in case Quirrell checks with Pomfrey."

"Or you could just use the Floo in our Common Room," said Lee, destroying an otherwise flawless plan.

"You can't travel using the Common Room Floos," said George shaking his head, "they aren't big enough."

"Not to travel," admitted Lee, "but you can still stick your head in and send a message. Why do you think there is Floo-Powder stored on the mantelpiece?"

"There is?"

"You two really don't pay a lot of attention do you?" said Lee rolling his eyes, "have you ever wondered why every now and then, there are people in our Common Room either chatting to the fire or have their head stuck into it?"

"I just thought they were cold."

The twins quickly sprung up from the benches and hurried up the stairs as fast as they could, taking a couple of short cuts on the way to make their progress quicker. They burst into the Common Room, and were momentarily stopped in their tracks. In front of the fireplace was someone on all fours, they couldn't tell who it was since the person's head had disappeared from view and seemed to be buried amongst the smoke and flames of the fire.

"We don't have time for this," concluded Fred grabbing a handful of Floo-Power from a pot on top of the mantelpiece, using his other hand he grabbed the back of students top and pulled them out of the fire.

Angelina looked up at the twins with an expression of puzzlement and annoyance.

"George will explain," Fred said before pushing his head into the fireplace, from the neck up he disappeared from view. His muffled voice could be heard in the Common Room, "sorry to interrupt Mrs Johnson, but I have to use the Floo, it's an emergency."

Fred pulled his head back out, stated the Weasley home address before throwing the black powder in his hand back down onto the fire and returning his face to the flame.

"Well?" Angelina asked George raising an eyebrow.

"Like he said," George pointed at his brother, "it's an emergency."

"Ginny? Ginny?" hissed the muted voice of Fred, "shh keep it down, I don't want mum hearing." Only Fred's side of the conversation could be heard. "Has the post turned up yet? Good, when it does, there will be a toilet seat addressed to you. Yes, a toilet seat. Because it's funny. Just make sure you hide it from mum, okay? Brilliant, nice one Ginny. See you."

"Let me get his straight," said Angelina doing a remarkable impression of McGonagall with her arms folded and lips pursed, "you, cut short my conversation with my mum, because you sent your sister a toilet seat and you wanted her to keep it hidden from your mum."

"Yeah," smiled Fred his cheeks smudged with soot.

"And that counts as an emergency does it?"

"Well, what would you call it?"

"I'd call it 'two idiots playing a stupid prank that went wrong'," admitted Angelina looking annoyed.

"What's the difference?" asked George frowning.


	7. The New Seeker

Saturday came and went with the Quidditch tryouts providing mixed results. On one hand they managed to find a replacement Chaser for Miro Franca: as predicted Katie Bell, who had almost made the team the previous year, proved to be the best person available for the task. She had managed to improve her game during the last twelve months, mainly down to lots of early morning practicing over the summer which impressed the Gryffindor Captain to no end. The downside however was the fact that the last remaining position of Seeker, which was arguably the one area in which no team could be lacking, was proving to be a difficult one to fill.

"How long has he been like that?" asked Angelina, whispering to George in the Common Room, Alicia, Fred and the newest addition to the team were also standing next to them in a quiet little huddle.

"About half an hour," replied George quickly looking up at the clock hung on the wall.

Oliver Wood was sitting in one of the large armchairs in the corner of the room, staring intensely at a piece of parchment attached to a clipboard. He had a look of pure concentration etched onto his face as he tapped his finger against the paper over and over.

"Should we check if he is okay?" wondered Katie in a concerned voice as she looked from one member of the team to another.

"Probably not," admitted Fred shaking his head, "you haven't dealt with Oliver much have you? How can I put this gently?"

"Oliver is crazy," ventured Alicia, the group still staring at the lone figure in the corner.

"Well everyone loves Quidditch," replied Katie, shrugging one of her shoulders.

"No, you don't seem to be getting this," said George shaking his head, "Oliver literally lives and breathes the game. I heard that on one History of Magic essay he wrote seventeen and a half feet on Quidditch."

"Nothing wrong with being knowledgeable about the game," said Katie.

"The essay subject wasn't even about Quidditch, it was about the formation of the Ministry of Magic," explained George.

"Okay I suppose that is a little…" Katie's face wrinkled under her frown.

"Crazy?" finished George.

"Yeah, with a capital 'K'," added Fred to looks that were equal measures of confusion and pity.

"There is one thing that you can't fault him on though," said George thoughtfully, looking back at their Captain.

"It's not his spelling that's for sure," muttered Angelina under her breath.

"Not Fred," replied George rolling his eyes, "I mean Oliver."

"Oh, what's that then?"

"This," George reached over to a table positioned under a window and picked up an apple that had been left there unwanted. He pulled his arm back and hurled it towards Oliver with deadly accuracy. There was a loud smacking sound as the fruit slammed into the fifth year's palm. His hand had snaked out in a blur and caught the apple in midair. Without taking his eyes off of the parchment, Oliver lifted the apple to his mouth and took a large bite out of the side of it.

"Okay, that was impressive," admitted Katie nodding her approval, "although, slightly unsettling."

"Wait for it," advised George still watching the Gryffindor Captain in the same way a cat does when it's fascinated by a piece of moving string.

There was the sound of crunching as Oliver began to chew his way through his mouthful of food. His face suddenly changed from an expression of concentration to one of confusion as he stopped chewing and looked down at the apple held in his hand. He glanced to his left, then his right before looking up and seeing the rest of the team for the first time.

"You alright Oliver?" asked George, trying to pretend that they hadn't all been staring at him.

"Yeah," replied Oliver slowly, he looked down at the fruit in his hand, "I must just be tired, I don't even remember taking an apple from the table at dinner."

"Oh I get that all the time," admitted Fred as the group wandered over, "I'm always finding stuff in my pockets, and I have no idea how they got there in the first place."

"That's because you keep putting on my clothes," complained George, he leant on the armrest of the chair and looked over Oliver's shoulder at the clipboard, "so what's this then?"

"It's my notes from Saturday on the people that tried out for the Seeker position," admitted Oliver sighing and leaning back in the chair, "I've written down all their strengths and weaknesses."

"You have?" asked George taking a close look at the writing. "There doesn't seem to be a lot of strengths written down."

"There wasn't much to write down," replied Oliver looking dejected.

"'Has short hair, won't get in his eyes', and that's what you call a strength?" said George reading from the notes.

"Well I had to put at least one strength down," shrugged Oliver sounded a bit defeated.

"Can I see that?" asked Katie taking the clipboard from him.

"McGonagall wants to see me later to find out how the tryouts went," Oliver grumbled, "I still don't know what I am going to do about a Seeker."

"Oi Oliver, you're so mean," stated Katie who had flipped through the notes, she looked up at the rest of the team with an expression of annoyance, "he said I look liked Ursula Sarnia who plays for the Puddlemere United, she's got a face like a Ghoul."

"Does she?" asked Oliver frowning with genuine puzzlement, "never really noticed that, she flies like a dream though, that's what I meant."

"Really?" replied Katie sceptically.

"Actually I'd believe him on that," counselled Alicia, "watch this. Oliver, who was voted this year's most attractive witch in For Wizards' Magazine?"

"Erm… no idea."

"Aurora Adelphi," sighed the twins in unison.

"And who was Britain's entrant in last year's Witch World competition?"

"Sorry," shrugged Oliver, "haven't got a clue."

"Gillian Philexia," responded the twins.

"And what was the final score in the nineteen eighty five under nineteens' South England Regional Quidditch cup final?"

"One hundred and eighty to two hundred and forty, the Tiverton Dragons versus the Ashford Mongooses," Oliver said animatedly, "it was an amazing game, the Mongooses were on the back foot for most of it but they came through in the end. Superb game by Fertelli, scored seven goals in the first ten minutes, I think that still stands as a record…"

"I think I just proved my point," stated Angelina looking satisfied.

"Like we said…" Alicia whispered to Katie, leaving the last word unspoken.

"With a capital 'K'," added Fred leaning in between the two girls.

Oliver spent most of the next few days moping around the school, permanently referring to his notes from the tryouts which he kept on his person at all times. Under the pressure of trying to decide who to make the new Seeker, he had become rather irritable and tended to snap at people if they bothered him too much. At this point Angelina had decided to try and keep Fred and George away from the Quidditch Captain, who didn't seem to fully appreciate their efforts in trying to cheer him up.

"I don't see why we have to stay away from him," complained George as they waited down at the Quidditch pitch for their scheduled practice session.

"Because he'll end up killing one, if not both, of you," replied Angelina leaning on her broom.

"And you'll miss us?" asked Fred smiling. "You're so sweet."

"Nope that's not the reason I'm keeping you away from him," clarified the Chaser, "I actually I meant that he's having enough trouble finding a Seeker without having to worry about replacing you two."

"No-one can replace us," stated George puffing out his chest, "we're just too amazing."

"Yes, you've certainly amazed me a lot of the time," nodded Alicia, "although I'm thinking we're using slightly different meanings for the word."

"Where's Oliver?" wondered Fred turning Katie's wrist over to look at her watch, "it's not like him to be late. Has anyone got the time? I left my watch upstairs."

"It's quarter past seven," advised Alicia and Katie together.

"Half eleven," stated George before frowning. He tapped his watch a few times before holding it up to his ear.

"Idiot," muttered Angelina.

"There he is," said Katie pointing up towards the castle.

"Hang on," said Fred squinting as they watched the approaching figure, "it looks like he is smiling, so it certainly can't be Oliver."

"Smiling? It looks like he is about to start skipping. I wonder what has him so happy," said Angelina frowning.

"And you said we couldn't cheer him up," Fred scolded her.

"Who said that it was you?"

"We were the only ones trying," reasoned Fred shrugging.

"Good evening team," Oliver flashed them all a wide smile as he reached them. He dropped his broom down on the floor and flicked the Quaffle held in the other hand towards Angelina who caught it deftly in one hand.

"You're certainly in a better mood," noted Alicia.

"And why shouldn't I be?" queried Oliver, "it's a lovely evening, the Sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky, we've found our Seeker, the birds are singing…"

"You found a Seeker?" asked George. "Who is it? It's not Haddington is it?"

"Which one was Haddington?" asked Fred.

"The one that kept making dragon sounds as he flew around."

"Oh god yeah, not him."

"Er… I've heard you two growling like dragons during practice," Alicia pointed out, poking George in the chest with his finger.

"Yeah," admitted George rubbing the sore spot on his chest with his hand, "but it's funny when we do it."

"Do you want to hear who it is or not?" asked Oliver, there was an expectant pause as the group turned to look at their captain, "Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" replied Fred looking as surprised as the rest of the team, "but he's a first year."

"Yeah," agreed Alicia, "and I heard he grew up with muggles, he probably hasn't even flown a broom in his life."

"Ha, wrong," said Oliver still looking pleased with himself, "he has flown a broom, just once mind you, today in fact."

"Oh well that settles it then," admitted George, "if he's flown once then let's snatch him up quick before he is signed by a professional team."

"On his first ever try on a broom he went into a fifty foot dive and caught a Rememberall," explained Oliver smiling wide.

"That's actually pretty impressive," said George nodding along with the rest of the team.

"Pretty impressive? On his first try?" asked Oliver.

"All right Oliver, calm down," soothed George, "last thing we need is your head exploding from overexcitement."

"Or is it?" said Fred looking thoughtful for a few seconds before adding, "no, no, you're right. It is."

"McGonagall is trying to sort out a broom for him," Oliver informed the team, "but I want it to remain a secret, so no telling anyone."

"Why are you looking at us when you say that?" asked George looking hurt, he pointed at Angelina and Alicia, "they're the ones who gossip all the time."

"Not about important stuff like Quidditch," countered Oliver.

"Wait a minute," interjected Alicia, "since when have we been gossips?"

"Who was the person that reported back to the whole of Gryffindor House that they'd seen Clare Edgely snogging Peter Battersby behind Greenhouse Two?" asked George.

"That was you."

"Oh… yeah forgot about that," replied George scratching his chin. His eyes lit up for a second time, "ah, then how about the time that Wrafter from Ravenclaw split his trousers in the middle of the corridor, revealing his underwear with little baby ducks all over them, and before you could say 'quack' it was all over the school?"

"That would be you again," said Alicia folding her arms.

"Oh… damn," there was a slight pause as George tried to think of more examples, "how about when… oh hang on that was us as well. What about… no, no that was us too. Oh I know, the time that… wait no, that was dream…"

Deciding that George could probably continue like this for the rest of the night Fred turned to Oliver, "fair enough, don't worry we'll keep it to ourselves."

****

"That must make him the youngest Quidditch player in over a century," said Lee looking thoroughly impressed.

"I know," agreed Fred, "apparently he is a natural on a broom."

"Yeah," nodded George, "Oliver said that on his ever flight he dropped down into a two hundred foot dive and caught a marble with his eyes shut."

"Well it's to be expected I suppose," admitted Lee, "after all he managed to defeat You-Know-Who when he was just a baby, so he's bound to be naturally talented at all things magical."

The three boys were sat around one of the tables under a window in the Gryffindor Common Room, where they were writing out some letters. The twins had managed to last a whole twelve seconds before telling their friend about the new addition to the team. They were quite proud that they'd managed to last that long.

"That's what I figured," said George thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

"Plus it's a good move on the old mind games front," added Lee dipping a quill into an ink pot and scribbling away on a piece of parchment.

"Yes it is," agreed Fred, spoiling his look of serene wisdom by adding, "er… why?"

"Think about it," said Lee leaning forward, "not only do we already have some of the best players…"

"Some?" asked George looking up from writing his letter.

"Fine," said Lee rolling his eyes, "we already have _all _the best players, but on top of that, we've now added the one person who managed to defeat You-Know-Who to the line up. The other teams will be petrified of us."

"That's true," replied Fred tapping his quill on the page in front of him.

"Who'd have thought we'd have Harry Potter in our Quidditch team?" commented Lee shaking his head in wonder.

"_This_ is keeping it to yourself?" asked Oliver tersely having approached the table.

"You didn't say we couldn't tell Lee," countered George shrugging.

"Keep it to yourself," repeated Oliver looking astounded, "what does that sound like to you?"

"If you had meant we couldn't tell Lee," Fred informed the fifth year, "then you should have specifically said 'and that includes Lee'."

"Yourself. Keep it to _yourself_," Oliver said slowly, "I shouldn't have to say 'and that includes Lee' because 'keep it to yourself' implies that already."

"But we tell Lee everything," replied George frowning, "he's like a third twin."

"That would make him a triplet," Fred corrected his brother.

"Yes, that's right," nodded George in agreement, "he's our black, dreadlocked haired triplet."

"He has our dad's eyes," added Fred.

"Do you two ever take things seriously?" sighed Oliver realising that the twins were completely oblivious to his annoyed state.

"Oh Merlin's Beard no," replied George shaking his head, "if we took things serious we'd be…"

"…idiots," Fred finished the sentence for him.

"I was gonna say Percy but it's basically the same thing," admitted George.

"Okay fine," said Oliver rubbing his forehead. He only seemed to get bad headaches when he had to deal with the twins. He turned to Lee, "don't tell anyone. And you two, don't tell anyone else. Okay?"

"Don't worry," advised George, "we'll keep it to ourselves."

Oliver left the three boys to write their letters and he headed off mumbling something about visiting Madam Pomfrey for his headache. For a few moments the only sound at the table was that of scribbling quills.

"Who are you writing to?" asked George looking up.

"Charlie," said Fred using his wand to clear up a few rogue droplets of ice that had spilled onto his parchment, "I figured he'd like to hear that Potter is our new Seeker. What about you?"

"I'm letting Enoch in on the good news too, what about you Lee?"

"I'm telling my mum about it, she's a big Quidditch fan," explained Lee, there was a slight awkward silence as the three boys looked at each other.

"If he hadn't wanted us to tell our family Oliver would have added 'and that includes anyone outside of Hogwarts'," reasoned Lee shrugging.

"Exactly Lee," agreed George.

"See," added Fred, "that's why your dad's favourite."


	8. Sneaking Out

"Come on then," said George as Lee led the twins down one of the many winding halls of the school, "where's this new passageway out of the school?"

"It better not be the one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy," warned Fred wagging a finger, "George and I found that one in our first week."

"Oh," said Lee stopping in his tracks and looking thoroughly disappointed, he turned to look at the twins, "you know about that one then do you?"

"Yeah, it lets you out just outside the school walls," replied George nodding his head towards the window which opened out onto the school grounds.

"It was a good try though," admitted Fred slapping his friend on the back.

"Thanks," replied Lee scratching his chin, "shame though, I was looking forward to exploring that."

"That's okay," shrugged George, "I'm sure we'll think of someway to keep ourselves amused tonight."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Lee looking between his two friends, having known them for a couple of years he could spot when they were planning something. The first clue was normally whether or not they were awake, although he did suspect that they probably thought up most of their ideas in their dreams; it would have explained a lot.

"Well you know how we aren't supposed to go up onto the third floor corridor on the right hand side?"

"Yeah?"

"Er… okay that's pretty much it," admitted Fred sheepishly, "we're going to the third floor corridor on the right hand side."

"Didn't Dumbledore say we could suffer a most painful death if we went there?" asked Lee looking uncertain.

"Yes."

"Sounds good to me," said Lee rubbing his hands together, "what do you reckon? Down in the Common Room at midnight?"

"I'd say make it about eleven twenty," replied George, "that whole meeting at midnight stuff is all very over the top, I prefer to be subtle."

"Yeah, if one word defines you two it's definitely 'subtle'," said Lee dryly.

"I would have gone with 'callow'," admitted Fred.

"Why? What does it mean?" asked Lee looking at his friend to see which part of him exuded a general feeling of callowness.

"I don't know," shrugged Fred, "but McGonagall put it on my report last year, and I got pretty good marks in my Transfiguration exam, so it's bound to be something good.."

****

"You guys ready?" whispered Lee in the dark of the dormitory, the faint snores of the other two occupants reverberating from their beds.

"Yeah," replied George pushing back the curtain surrounding his bed.

The three boys made their way as silently as they could out of their room. Since they were doing it in the dark, the relative quiet was regularly interrupted by the sounds of one of them bumping into something, which usually preceded a flurry of curse words.

"That is going to leave a bruise," muttered Fred in the hallway as he rubbed the shin of his leg.

"They're still asleep," Lee informed them as he closed the door to their dormitory, "although I'm not entirely sure how."

"Idiot," said George punching his brother on the arm.

"You left the cauldron there," Fred pointed out, "I wouldn't have tripped over it otherwise."

The two of them bickered all the way down the stairs, the fire in the Common Room had almost gone out, leaving just the faintest light for them to guide their way across to the portrait hole. They had almost reached the exit when a voice spoke from the nearest chair, causing all three of them to jump at the unexpected noise.

"I can't believe you're going to do this."

A lamp flickered on. Seated in the chair was one of the new first year girls. Her face quickly changed from a frown to one of slight embarrassment. Her cheeks flushed pink to match her dressing gown.

"Oh…s-sorry," she stammered quickly, caught off-guard, "I thought you were someone else."

"Happens all the time," shrugged Fred, he nodded his head towards George, "people are always mistaking me for him."

"It's Stephanie isn't it?" asked George.

"Hermione," corrected the girl.

"Close enough," shrugged George, "who were…"

"How is that close enough?" asked Lee raising his eyebrows.

"It's a girl's name," explained George, he pointed towards Hermione, "and she's a girl, so, close enough."

"I'm glad I only share your looks and not your brains," admitted Fred. He turned to address Hermione, "who were you waiting for?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter," replied Hermione shaking her head slightly, "just a couple of first year boys were planning on sneaking out of the House tonight."

"Honestly," George tutted, "you just can't rely on anyone these days can you?"

"Wait a minute," the frown had worked its way back onto Hermione's face, "where were you going?"

"We're sneaking out of the House," replied George unashamedly.

"But you can't."

"Oh we can," said Fred informatively, "you just head out of the portrait and there you go, you've snuck out of the House. Is it snuck or sneaked?"

"I know you _can _sneak out of Gryffindor House," replied Hermione, "what I actually meant was that you shouldn't."

"Snuck out… it just doesn't sound right you know? But then 'sneaked out' isn't any better."

"Why shouldn't we?" this time it was George's turn to frown.

"Because it's against the rules," said Hermione raising her eyebrows.

"And?"

"Snook. We 'snook' out of the House. Nothing sounds right now."

"What do you mean 'and'? It's against the rules," Hermione tried again.

"Yeah, I still can't see the actual problem," responded George shaking his head.

"The problem," Hermione stated slowly, "is that if you get caught, you'll cost us House Points."

"Ah well that's easily solved," beamed George glad to finally be making some headway, "we won't get caught."

"But that's not the point."

"Look, Harriet…"

"Hermione," she corrected him through gritted teeth.

"That's what I said. Anyway, trust us, we've done this plenty of times," admitted George pressing his hand on his chest, "and we've never been caught. So, thanks for looking out for us but we'll be fine."

"Yeah," agreed Fred, "we've snicked out of here plenty of times."

Leaving the gob-smacked first year alone in the Common Room the three boys made their way through the portrait.

"Merlin's Beard," muttered Lee shaking his head, "how bossy was she?"

"I know," agreed Fred, "I bet she gets on well with McGonagall."

The three boys had only made it a few steps before the came across another Gryffindor first year; a boy this time. He was curled up in the foetal position next to one of the walls quietly snoring away.

"We were never this weird when we were first years were we?" asked Lee as they crept passed the snoozing boy. He thought about what he'd just said, and the company he was with, "well, _I _was never that weird."

The three boys made their way through the school using the various short cuts that had become second nature to them, and it wasn't long before they were at the third floor, close to where the corridor which had been designated out of bounds was. They passed by one of the classrooms where their Charms lessons were held and eventually came to the end of the corridor where a locked door barred them from progressing any further.

"Allow me," said Fred taking his wand out of the pocket of his jeans, he pointed at the keyhole of the door, "Alohamora!"

There was a faint click and the door swung open, leaving a self-satisfied looking Fred to saunter on through.

"I never look that smug do I?" asked George.

"Only when you do something right," admitted Lee graciously, "so hardly ever."

George and Lee followed Fred inside. The door closed slowly behind them. The three boys had frozen in their tracks and for good reason. They had definitely found the forbidden corridor.

They were looking at a humongous three headed dog, which was laying across the middle of the corridor, each of its heads laid peacefully on the floor as faint growls emanated from each of them. Its body filled most of the room between the floor and the ceiling and blocked their view of the corridor behind it.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," said Lee quietly in case he woke the sleeping beast.

"You know, I think I might have to agree with you on that one," said George staring unblinkingly at the animal.

"We might be able to sneak passed it," said Fred hopefully.

"We'd have to climb over it," George pointed out, "it's laid out across the whole width of the corridor."

"I reckon we could manage it," ventured Fred.

At that moment one of the heads of the dog gave a loud snort, before its jaws stretched as it yawned deeply, revealing rows of sharp deadly looking teeth.

"I think it's waking up," Lee said, his eyes opening wide in panic.

"Time to leave I think," admitted George reaching for the handle behind his back.

He pulled the door open just as the dog opened one of its large oversized eyes and the three boys piled through.

"Why would anyone leave a dog like that in the middle of a corridor?" asked Fred jabbing his finger backwards at the closed door.

"Isn't it obvious?" shuddered Lee, who could still see the gaping jaws of the beast in his mind's-eye.

"School mascot?" George bent down to look through the keyhole at the animal.

"Nah," disagreed Fred shaking his head, "we've already got one of those."

"We do?" asked George.

"Yeah," nodded Lee, "the Giant Squid."

"Oh," frowned Fred, "I always thought it was the Whomping Willow."

"I would have said it was Filch," admitted George. The three boys took a moment to picture the school's caretaker. "Maybe not."

"So why the dog then?" Fred turned to Lee.

"What are dogs used for?" asked Lee. He quickly realised that his two friends were both trying to think up silly answers to the question so he decided to head them off at the pass by giving them the solution himself. "To guard things."

"Ahh," said George tapping the side of his nose, "now you're talking. So how do we get passed a giant three headed dog?"

"We're going to need three giant bones," stated Fred firmly.

The boys decided to head back towards Gryffindor House while they worked out a plan to get past the three headed dog. Before they left Fred used his wand to lock the door again, to make sure they didn't leave behind any evidence of their presence. They had only gone a short distance before Lee put a hand up to stop them in their tracks.

"Shh," said Lee quickly, "I think I can hear someone coming."

The boys looked down the corridor; away from the direction of the three headed dog. Lee was right; a number of footsteps could be heard, they couldn't tell how many there were but they were definitely heading the boys' way as the sound was getting louder every second.

"Quick, in here," ordered George reaching for the closest classroom door and bounding inside.

Theyclosed the door as quietly as they could and tried to press their ears against it to hear anything they could from the corridor. Unfortunately the thick oak door on its own would have made it difficult to manage this task without the three boys pushing each other to try and get themselves into a better position.

"I think that is Peeves," whispered George, screwing his eyes up as he tried to concentrate on the sound of the voice.

"But we heard footsteps," Lee pointed out.

Any response that the twins were about to make was quickly forgotten. The shrill voice of Peeves suddenly bellowed from the corridor making all three of them jump back from the door.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"How did he know?" Fred swore bitterly, "he didn't even see us."

"It's not us he's talking about," admitted George as the sound of hurried footsteps passed by the door, "there some other people out there."

"Do you think that'll matter to Filch if he catches us?" asked Lee, "sorry Filch, but Peeves didn't mean us."

"Damn," George swore, "I think I can hear Filch talking to Peeves. If he starts checking the classrooms we're dead. This is the only way in or out of this one."

"What do we do?" asked Lee urgently.

"Run for it," replied Fred to the astounded looks from the other two. He looked around the room they were in, "seriously we could do it. This room is the one we have our Charms lessons in which means the one opposite has a short cut through the tapestry at the back of the room…"

"Right," nodded George, "we used it last week to get down to the Potions class."

"Exactly," said Fred, "so we'll end up in the Dungeons and then we just make our way back to Gryffindor Tower from there."

"What about Filch?" said Lee, "he'll spot us the moment we leave the room."

"Pull your top up to hide your head," George dragged his t-shirt up over his head so that only his nose was poking out.

"Fair enough," shrugged Lee as Fred and he followed suit, "but he'll still chase us."

"So what?" asked Fred dismissively, "if we can't out run Filch then we deserve to be put in detention."

"Ready?" George looked back at the other two with his hand on the handle. All three looked very peculiar with their tops pulled up over their heads, especially as they bobbed up and down on the balls of their feet as they prepared to break into a run. "One…"

"Two…" mouthed Fred and Lee in unison

"Three," George pushed open the door and immediately flung a hand out to reach for the handle opposite.

"Hey!" barked Filch as the three boys shot across the corridor in a blur.

George led the way as he vaulted athletically over the teacher's desk as the head of the room and pushed through a large tapestry depicting some important battle. Behind the tapestry was a tight claustrophobic staircase that led spiralling down. The boys kept their hands pressed against the sides of the walls as they ran down the steps, a couple of times they stumbled in the dark but any thought of slowing down evaporated as they heard Filch pushing the tapestry to one side.

"Thought I didn't know about this secret stairway did you?" he voice echoed down from above, "I'll have you kicked out for this."

Finally George burst through another tapestry at the bottom of the stairwell in another corridor, without even waiting to get his bearings he shot off down the hallway. Fred did likewise, only momentarily pausing to see where his brother had gone after leaving the hidden passageway. Lee was last to exit into the dark dungeon corridor, he pulled his wand from his pocket and fired a spell at the stone floor in front of the tapestry before racing after the twins.

The boys turned down one corridor, then another, slaloming left and right in the dark tunnels. After two years of exploring the castle the twins had not only built up an extensive knowledge of the network of secret tunnels and passageways that were strewn about the school but also which ones Filch didn't know about.

George stopped to catch his breath in one hidden corridor that could only be entered if the correct enchantment was used to open it. Since Filch was a Squib it was definitely a safe place for them to rest.

"I… think… we… lost him," gasped Fred leaning his back against the wall and sliding down onto the floor.

"He… can't half… shift it… for an old man," admitted Lee doubled over at the waist.

"What was that spell you cast?" asked Fred when he finally got his breath back.

"Shoe Sticking Spell," explained Lee, still taking large gulps of air, "I figured it might slow him down a bit."

"Good thinking," said George appreciatively, "although I would have gone with an Ice Sheen Charm, that would have guaranteed to make him fall over."

"He probably would have skidded and broken his leg if I'd used that."

"And your point is?"

"Is it too late to go back?" Lee wondered.


	9. Meeting the Team

The next day at breakfast, the twins and Lee were lost in such deep conversation about how they planned to get past the three headed dog on the third floor, that they almost didn't notice Angelina and Alicia slip into seats opposite them.

"I suppose we could ask Hagrid, he'd know where to get some," said Lee thoughtfully.

"Get some what?" asked Alicia, dolling out some bacon onto her plate before offering them to Angelina.

"Large bones… ow," Lee rubbed his ankle that had just been kicked by George under the table.

"What do you need large bones for?" said Angelina adding scrambled egg to her plate, before reaching for some orange juice.

"Because small ones just won't do," countered Fred waving his fork in her direction.

"And why won't they do?"

"Because they are too small."

"Too small for what?" clarified Angelina.

"To be called large bones," stated Fred.

"You three are so weird," sighed Angelina shaking her head as she mentally reminded herself to refrain from ever expecting a serious answer from the twin.

"Hey," complained Lee pointing at the twins, "I'm not as weird as them."

"Nobody is as weird as them," agreed Alicia.

Before either of the twins could come up with an objection, a swarm of owls flew into the Great Hall bringing with them the morning post. Most people's eyes were drawn to one particular elongated package which had to be carried by six large screech owls. Eventually the birds managed to lower the parcel in front of a student sitting further down the line of Gryffindor's table. The group of third years craned their neck to try and see who it was who'd received the item, but since practically everyone else on the table was doing the same it was next to impossible to work out who the recipient was.

It only became clear a few moments later when a rather excited looking Harry Potter scurried passed where they were seated, carrying the long brown package. The twin's younger brother, Ron, was following close behind him.

"It must be his 'you-know-what'," said Alicia looking knowingly at the three boys and nodding.

"Ah yes, the 'you-know-what," agreed George tapping his nose, he paused for a moment before adding, "and that is…?"

"His…" Angelina leaned close and mouthed the word 'broom'.

"It's an odd shape for a balloon," frowned Lee leaning back and watching the retreating form of Harry.

"Not balloon," scolded Angelina, lowering her voice into a whisper, "his broom."

"Oh…that's makes more sense," nodded Lee.

"I take it back," said Alicia, "you are definitely as weird as them."

"I wonder what he got," said George thoughtfully, "probably a Cleansweep Seven."

"We'll find out later on tonight," admitted Angelina conversationally, "Woods' taking him out to the pitch to explain the rules and see if he is as good as McGonagall says. I'm sure he'll tell us all about it."

"Yeah, whether we want to hear about it or not," added Fred, picking up a letter from the pile that had been dropped in front of the group. In all the excitement over Harry Potter's new broom they'd almost forgotten that they'd received their own post.

"Brilliant, mum says you can visit over Christmas if you want," exclaimed Alicia as she read from her letter.

"Really? That's nice of her," admitted George, "are you sure they'll be room for all of us?"

"Not you, I meant Angelina," Alicia clarified.

"What? You mean Angelina said we could visit over Christmas? Thanks Angelina," beamed Fred.

"You two have got to be the biggest idiots I have ever met," sighed Alicia rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Come on Alicia," said Angelina picking up her plate of food, "there's some space further down. At least we'll be able to eat breakfast without any moronic comments coming our way."

The two girls grabbed their letters and stuffed them into their pockets before flouncing off to a more peaceful section of the table, which realistically could have been anywhere else.

"They can be so touchy sometimes," said George shaking his head. He tore open one of the two letters the twins had received and passed the other to his brother, "ah, it's from mum. The usual stuff really, 'hope we're behaving ourselves', 'had two letters from McGonagall about our conduct', 'found a toilet seat hidden under Ginny's bed', wants to know if we know anything about that last one. Pretty much the same old thing, well apart from the toilet seat. What about you? Who's that one from?"

Fred didn't answer him straight away; instead he was reading the other letter intensely with a frown etched onto his face. Finally he looked up from the parchment to see his brother and Lee staring at him expectantly.

"Good letter was it?" asked Lee, nodding towards the paper in Fred's hand.

"It's from Enoch," explained Fred, "he says he's in trouble."

"What's new?" shrugged George.

"That's what I first thought," admitted Fred handing the letter over to his brother, "but read down further, it says we could be in trouble too."

_Hiya Lads,_

_Enoch here, writing you a quick letter to tell you to keep you eyes out for anything suspicious. I've been trekking through South American for a while now, and every now and then I would get the unmistakeable feeling that I was being watched, and a number of times I thought I actually saw someone following me. At first I put it down to me just being paranoid but it turns out I was right._

_Some associates and I arranged a little excursion deep into the rainforests to investigate a lost temple from an ancient civilisation. Anyway __I was investigating some old ruins; they were supposed to be safe so my guide and the rest of the group I was with in stayed back at the camp. So I'm wondering through these ancient ruins, minding my own business and next thing I know I'm being attacked by someone._

_Whoever this guy was, he was good; only just managed to survive the first attack. I ended up having to barricade myself into a small chamber in the ruins. I was safe enough inside but I could hear him shouting at me to come out and face him like a man. (A bit of a cheek seeing as he tried to ambush me.)_

_Anyway, this is the bit that concerns you, luckily for me the ruins were made of stone which had natural magical resistance. That frustrated him somewhat as no matter what he tried he couldn't get to me, unfortunately I couldn't get out but all I really had to do was wait for the rest of the camp to wonder where I had got to and come looking for me. So to try and get me to leave, he started telling me what he was going to do if I didn't get out which included saying he'd be forced to move onto his secondary targets; you two. Normally I would have put this down to desperation on his part, but what concerns me is that he actually referred to you by your names._

_Let's face it, even without Dumbledore, Hogwarts is probably the safest place in the world to be, but keep your eyes and ears open for anything weird happening in your __neck of the woods… well weirder than normal anyway. I'm going to try and investigate things over here. It was probably just a lot of hot air from the guy trying to get me into the open but just on the off chance it wasn't – be careful._

_Hi to the rest of the family and all my old students,_

_Enoch._

"What do you think?" asked Fred as George passed the letter over to Lee for him to read.

"I agree with Enoch, it's probably nothing," shrugged George.

"Yeah but he knew our names," Fred pointed out.

"So? Who hasn't heard of the famous Weasley twins?" replied George puffing his chest out. He exhaled out a lungful of air and adopted a slightly more serious tone, "look, if anyone looked into Enoch's family history then they'd easily come up with any one of our names. He probably could have just as easily said Charlie or Percy."

"True I guess," agreed Fred, "still, I hope Enoch's okay."

"Ah he'll be fine," said George dismissively, "you know what he is like, always getting into trouble but manages to get away with it every time."

"Now that sounds familiar," said Lee.

"Yeah Lee," agreed George nodding, "you do manage to get away with a lot of things."

****

"Did Oliver tell you to wait up for him as well?" asked George flopping into a squashy armchair by the fire.

"Yeah," nodded Angelina, looking up at the clock in the Common Room. It was quite late, the sun had since disappeared over the horizon and the only occupants of the room were the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The fire had died down, now leaving only a smouldering pile of embers which occasionally threw up a spark or two.

"Where is he anyway?" asked Alicia stretching her legs out so her feet rested on the table in front of her.

"I saw him just before seven," Fred stifled a yawn against the back of his hand, "he was heading down to the Quidditch pitch to meet Potter."

"I forgot about that," said Katie scooting down into her seat and getting comfy, "I wonder if he is any good."

"Well obviously he is," George frowned as he looked at her, "why else would he have been made Quidditch Captain?"

"Not Oliver you idiot, I meant Potter," muttered Katie, she looked sideways at Angelina, "are they always like this?"

"For as long as I've known them," admitted Angelina sympathetically, "you'll either get use to them or end up beating them to death with their own shoes."

"So how long did it take you to get use to them?" wondered Katie looking at her team-mate.

"Who says I'm used to them?" asked Angelina flashing an evil smile.

As Fred and George shuffled their feet back under their chairs, just in case, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open allowing Oliver and Harry to enter Gryffindor House. They were carrying their brooms slung over their shoulder and both seemed to be pretty pleased with themselves.

"Hiya Oliver. Harry," the group greeted new arrivals in turn. The girls sat forward a bit to show they were ready to hear what Oliver had to say to them. Katie who, as a new member of the squad, was especially eager to appear attentive looked like she was sitting in class. Fred and George, on the other hand, remained steadfastly slouched in their chairs, which to be fair also meant that they too looked the same way they did in class.

"Hello guys," said Oliver while Harry acknowledged the group with a nervous smile. "Everyone this is our new Seeker Harry, Harry this is the rest of the team. I think I'm right in saying you already know the twins."

"Yeah," nodded Harry, smiling in relief at the two familiar friendly faces, "hi guys."

"And these three are our Chasers," said Oliver pointing at the girls. "That's Angelina, Alicia and Katie; she's new this year like you."

"Hey," Harry waved awkwardly at the girls, well aware that their three sets of eyes had flickered up towards the scar on his head.

"Anyway," said Oliver as the girls continued to stare expectantly at the new Seeker, "I've decided on three practice sessions this year instead of the normal two; Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Three practice sessions?" asked George looking annoyed as he finally sat forward.

"I know," Oliver nodded sympathetically, "originally I planned to have five but I just couldn't manage to book the pitch for all of them. Maybe next year though."

"Oh good," muttered Fred, "that'll be something to look forward to. Why don't you add some morning practice sessions in too while you are at it?"

"That's exactly what I thought," beamed Oliver looking thoroughly pleased since he'd initially thought the team might complain about too many practice sessions. He mentally reprimanded himself for ever doubting the team's commitment, "anyway, that'll have to wait until next year, although I'll try and see about those morning sessions. This year we'll be concentrating on the basic skills for the first few weeks before we start practicing some of the new formations I've been playing about with over the summer."

"Over the summer?" asked Alicia raising her eyebrows, as George punched his brother in the arm, "don't you ever take a rest from Quidditch?"

"Why would I do that?" replied Oliver clearly confused.

"You really do treat Quidditch as if it's a matter of life and death," Angelina counselled carefully.

"Merlin's Beard no," said Oliver shaking his head dismissively, "it's much more important than that."

"With a capital 'K'," muttered Fred under his breath.

"Well unless I am needed for anything I'm going to head off to bed," said Harry politely, "nice to meet you all."

He left the Common Room under a hail of 'goodnights' and headed off the spiral staircase to the boys' dormitories. The team watched him disappear from sight and as soon as they felt he'd dropped out of earshot the rest of the team turned to Oliver.

"So, is he as good as McGonagall said?" asked Angelina eagerly leaning forward.

"Better," grinned Oliver almost looking giddy, "it was too dark to try out with the Snitch, but he caught every one of those gloff balls I threw for him, didn't miss a single one."

"What's a gloff ball?" asked Fred.

"One of these," said Oliver taking a golf ball out of his pocket and handing it to the Beater, "it's some weird game muggles play."

"Not bad," said Fred examining the golf ball, "these would be pretty hard to spot, but catching a ball is easier than catching a Snitch."

"Yeah I know," agreed Oliver solemnly, "but it was only his second time on a broom and he flew like he'd been doing it all his life. I bet he'll be really good by the time he learns the game properly, maybe even better than your brother."

"Percy is useless on a broom," admitted George.

"Well Quidditch skills not always guaranteed to run in a family," replied Oliver sympathetically, his natural immunity to sarcasm working over time as it generally did around the twins.

"A good Seeker," said Angelina wistfully, "that's all we were missing last year, I think we have a chance of walking away with the Quidditch Cup this time."

"We had a good chance of walking away with it last year," said Fred, "but Filch caught us and made us return it to the trophy room."

"We'll call that plan B then shall we?" said Alicia stretching out and yawning.

"Actually I think it's plan C at this point," George corrected her, "I think we all agreed that plan B involved poisoning the other team so they couldn't compete."

"I thought plan B was to wedge something into each of the hoops so no one could score," Fred added.

"No, that was plan D," George pointed out.

"Did the rest of us miss the day that these plans were thought up?" asked Angelina looking between the two boys.

"It was decided at the last team meeting," Fred informed her

"There was a team meeting?" piped up Oliver looking concerned, "I haven't called a team meeting this year."

"Well it wasn't so much a team meeting as it was me and George talking the other day at breakfast."

"Lucky for us then," admitted Angelina, "for a moment there I thought I'd missed something important."

"Hey, one of these games we'll put one of our plans into action and then you won't be mocking us about them," countered Fred.

"No, we'll probably be too busy laughing as you… I don't know… pull Mrs Norris from inside your top and throw her at the opposing 'Keeper," Katie snorted sarcastically.

"That's actually not bad," said George looking impressed, "we'll call that one," at this point he did a bit of mental calculation, "plan J, I think that's about right."


	10. Muggle Studies

The third years' timetables were noticeably fuller this year owing to the fact that they had to choose a minimum of two additional subjects to study. While most of the more sensible students had chosen subjects based on a rough idea of possible career paths they would like to take, the twins, and by extension Lee, had chosen Muggle Studies and Divination due to the fact that they were believed to be the easier ones to pass.

"Now class," said Professor Burbage. She began passing out parchments to the students, "here are your essays from last week, and while on the whole the standard of the work was high I have to regretfully inform some of you that Muggles do not use washing machines to bathe in."

"Are you one hundred percent sure on that?" asked Fred frowning at his parchment which contained a lot more red ink then he thought was appropriate.

"Yes, I am very sure of that," replied Burbage kindly.

"Even though I've drawn a picture to show it is possible," said Fred holding up his homework.

"While many of your suggestions on what items can be found in a Muggle home were technically possible," Burbage responded diplomatically, "for that picture to be accurate the washing machine would have to be as tall as the room."

"But _if _it was as tall as the room could a Muggle use it to take a bath in?" asked Fred.

"Yes."

"Excellent," beamed Fred offering his parchment up for a corrected mark.

"Although the Muggle would probably die," finished Burbage. There was an awkward pause.

"But that's still a yes, right?" asked Fred breaking the silence, his parchment still being held out.

"Fine," sighed Burbage taking the parchment from him and waving her wand at it to change the mark, "congratulations, although you still failed."

"I don't know," said Fred examining his work, "give me a few more minutes and I could probably argue a few extra marks."

"While Mister Weasley fights the inevitable, I'll draw the attention of the rest of you to the front of the class," Burbage pointed her wand at the windows, making the shutters close before flipping a switch on an ancient looking projector that whirled into life in a fit of clicking.

"We'll be moving away from household items for the time being," explained Burbage as a white light formed on a screen at the head of the room, "and moving onto different forms of transport that Muggles use. Can anyone tell me what this is?"

Professor Burbage tapped the projector with her wand and with a click the white light was replaced by a picture of a car. Several hands in the class went up. She nodded towards George.

"It's a car," he answered confidently, seeing as his father owned one this wasn't to be unexpected that he'd get it right.

"Well done," smiled Burbage, "one point to Gryffindor, from talking to the other teachers I believe that puts your total so far this year to minus fourteen."

"Actually it's minus nineteen," corrected George unashamedly, "we had double Potions this morning."

"Ah," nodded Burbage tapping the projector once again, "and what about this one?"

This time fewer hands went up.

"Yes, Mr Wigglemore?"

"It's an aeroplant," said a Hufflepuff student confidently.

"Close but it's plane, aero_plane_," explained Burbage tapping the projector again. An image of a helicopter appeared in view, "and this one."

"Ooo I know this one," said Fred raising his hand. While there were a number of other hands up, Burbage noted that his was the only one that belonged to someone from a purely wizarding background. She nodded in Fred's direction, "it's a Whirly-Bird Thing."

"Er…no, it's a called a Helicopter," corrected Burbage, as there was a faint rippling of giggles from the class.

"That's what dad always called them," Fred complained under his breath as Lee nudged him with his elbow.

The lesson continued with the class copying notes from the board about different types of transport that the average muggle would use in their day to day life. Although they were only taking the subject for the first time in their third year, the twins, along with most others who took the class found that it was actually quite enjoyable due to the relaxed nature in which it was taught.

While most people who didn't take the class thought it might be extremely boring since there were no spells to learn, no charms to conjure, and no potions to master, there was one additional thing missing that definitely made up for it; no Slytherin students. It was something that the whole class had noted upon on their first day, although since Burbage never said anything about it none of the students decided to bring up the matter. Well, none of the polite ones did anyway.

"So what's the story with no Slytherin students?" asked George once he'd finished copying the notes down.

"Salazar Slytherin was well know for his love of pure-bloods," explained Burbage as the rest of the class listened intently whilst trying to appear to be concentrating on copying the information on the board, "and needless to say most of those that are put into Slytherin buy into that pure-blood nonsense that very few, if any, ever decide that Muggle society is worth even acknowledging let alone knowing about. If fact in all my time teaching here, I don't think I have ever had a single Slytherin student."

"You aren't missing much," said George grinning cheekily.

"Yes, well, I can't really comment on that myself," said Burbage the corner of her mouth creasing slightly upward before she managed to rein it back under her control.

The class continued to copy the notes until it soon became apparent that everyone had finished, and were either patiently sitting still, talking quietly to their neighbour or, in the case of the twins, taking it in turns to flick each other behind the ear while the other wasn't looking.

"Excellent," Burbage said once she was happy that the notes had been copied. She broke into a smile and walked to the side of the room where a store cupboard was located, "now I have a little treat for you all. I've managed to get my hands on a few modes of transport used by muggles for you to try out."

"We're going to drive cars?" asked one excited student as everyone looked at each other.

"Don't be such a twonk Merrick," said George rolling his eyes, "you could never get a car inside that store cupboard; now one of them motorbikes, that would definitely fit."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you two," said Burbage using her wand to float two large boxes back into the room, "but we don't cover the practical aspect of cars or motorbikes in this class. However, we are going to be trying out these."

Burbage had opened both boxes and lifted up two strange looking objects. In her left hand she held a pair of odd looking boots and in her right hand she held a wooden board. Both the boots and the board had four wheels attached to each of them.

"These," said Burbage jingling the boots in her left hand, "are called roller-skates and this is a skateboard. Most muggle children have used one or the other at some point."

"Trust muggles to take something simple like a shoe and make it weird," said Lee examining one of the roller-skates that Burbage had just put down in front of him as she handed out the items.

"A shoe? What about this thing? " asked Fred holding up his skateboard and shaking his head, "they went and slapped some wheels on a piece of wood."

"Now can I ask everyone to please help push the desks to the side of the room to give you a little space? No one is to start using the roller-skates or skateboards until I have handed out the appropriate safety equipment."

****

"It's broken," complained Lee holding a bloody hanky to his nose.

"It's not broken," countered Fred walking along side him.

"It's my nose," replied Lee wincing slightly, "I know if it's broken or not and I'm telling you it's broken."

"Your nose?" asked George walking next to them cradling his left arm, "what about my arm?"

"What about your arm?" snapped Lee, "it's your fault my nose is like this."

"How do you figured that?"

"Lets see," said Lee sarcastically, "if you hadn't grabbed by arm when you were falling over, then you wouldn't have pulled me down, and I wouldn't have smacked my nose on the ground."

"I didn't grab you on purpose," argued George, "it was just instinct. Anyway it was all really Fred's fault."

"Er… how exactly?" retorted Fred, the only one of the trio to be unharmed.

"Burbage told us not to start using those things until she'd given out the safety equipment," explained George as they approached the Infirmary doors, "and before she did, you started whizzing around the room like an idiot."

"And how is me whizzing around like an idiot have anything to do with you falling over?"

"Because if you hadn't done it then I wouldn't have tried mine out without the safety equipment either, and then I wouldn't have fallen over and I wouldn't have pulled Lee down with me."

"So that's my fault is it?" argued Fred pushing the door open and holding it for the other two, "if I jumped off our broom shed would you copy me?"

"I did," countered George, "remember? I landed on top of you and skinned my knee."

"Oh yeah," said Fred letting the door swing shut behind them, "I forgot about that, oh well I guess it must be my fault. Sorry guys."

"What happened now?" asked Madame Pomfrey looking up from her desk.

"Oh, well Lee here thinks he has a broken nose and George, sorry George," Fred apologised for slapping his brother on his injured arm, "has done something to his arm. And apparently it's my entire fault."

"Were you fighting?" asked Pomfrey disapprovingly.

"No. Well actually we were, but that was only about whose fault it was," explained Fred; the look of confusion on the school's nurse's face was enough to convince him to clarify the story. "It happened in our Muggles Studies lesson."

"That Charity Burbage," Pomfrey clucked reproachfully, "she's always messing around with some muggle invention, what was it this time? Sporkscrews? Chainclaws? She's not still trying to get something electic to work is she?" asked the woman, carefully trying to pronounce the unfamiliar muggle words.

"Skateboard actually," said George as Pomfrey undid the sleeve on his shirt and rolled it up.

"I should have known," said Pomfrey examining his arm, "every year I get a constant flow of students through here thanks to that lesson, only Care of Magical Creatures and Quidditch account for more injuries."

"Wow, if I'd known that…" Fred looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'd probably still have signed up for it."

"Typical boys," muttered Pomfrey applying some ointment to a cloth and wrapping it around George's arm. "It's not broken, probably badly sprained; this should take the sting out of it somewhat. Now lets look at your nose. Ah yes, definitely broken."

"Ha!" beamed Lee, looking across at George "told you so. Ow."

"Well if you do insist on moving around," counselled Pomfrey, she took her wand out and pointed at his face, "now keep still."

"Ahh that's better," said Lee prodding the end of his nose with a finger once it had been fixed.

"Here," said Pomfrey handing him a cloth, and pointing him towards a basin with a mirror above it, "go and clean that blood off your face."

"It'll take more then a damn cloth to improve that face," grinned Fred, causing Lee to flash him a look of annoyance. Pomfrey frowned as she tried to spot exactly what was wrong with him. She began by examining his head, pushing his hair out of the way to see if there were any cuts on his scalp. Once it became clear that his skull was okay, she moved onto other parts of his body until she eventual gave up with a snort of frustration.

"Okay," Pomfrey frowned with her hands on her hips, "what's wrong with you?"

"Oh nothing," admitted Fred cheerfully, "Professor Burbage said someone should help these two down to the Hospital Wing. I volunteered."

"You could have told me sooner," complained Pomfrey shaking her head. She turned to look at George, "keep that cloth on over your arm for the next hour or so and it should be right as rain. As for you Mr Jordan, aside from a little tenderness you should be just fine. Back off to class the both of you."

"How come he's completely fine and I have to have this on for an hour?" wondered George as the three boys left the Hospital Wing.

"You'd rather you had a broken arm?" asked Lee prodding his nose gingerly with his finger.

"No," admitted George shrugging, "I'm just saying it just seems a bit unfair if you ask me."

"Unfair? It was your fault, remember?" complained Lee.

"I thought we established it was Fred's fault."

"Shh," said Lee holding his hand up just as Fred was about to counter with a witty retort that involved the words 'up' and 'shut' arranged in a suitable order.

Up ahead they could hear the unmistakeable muttering of Filch. Not wanting to have to explain why they were out of class, the three boys decided it would be easier to hide in one of the side alcoves until the caretaker had gone.

They pressed their backs against the wall as Filch appeared at the end of the corridor; George poked his head out slightly to see if he would proceed down the hallway.

"Is he coming?" whispered Lee.

"No," advised George causing the other two to let out a relieved sigh, "he just carried on across the corridor, must be going done to his office. There was something slightly worrying though."

"What?"

"He seemed happy."

"Happy?" frowned Lee, "he's only happy when he has just put someone into detention, or when he is about to put someone into detention, or when he is supervising detention… he really likes detention doesn't he?"

"Yeah, I heard he once applied for a job as a guard in Azkaban but they decided to stick with the Dementors as they were more humane."

"I wonder what has him so giddy," said Fred thoughtfully.

"There's only one way to find out," said Lee smiling.

"Hold Mrs Norris for ransom until he tells us?" queried George.

"Er… yes," replied Lee kindly, "or we could just follow him and find out."

"Ah, keeping it simple," nodded George, "I like it."

The three boys carefully but quickly crept down the corridor and turned left following the route that Filch had. It brought them out to the main stairwell with its constantly change staircases. Looking over the banister Fred managed to catch a glimpse of the caretaker on one of the lower steps.

"He must be heading back to his office," concluded George leaning over the rail.

"Okay there's a shortcut behind the statue of McGummry the Ever-Confused," said Fred having a quick mental check of all of the routes they'd uncovered in the last two years, "it should bring us out just past his office."

"Good thinking," said Lee as the three boys backtracked quickly down the corridor to find the statue, "I'm always amazed that despite knowing all these shortcuts, we are always a bit late for our classes."

"It's because of all the shortcuts that we decide we have plenty of time to get to lessons," shrugged George, "if we didn't know about them I'm pretty sure we'd be on time."

They were soon standing in front of the large statue of a man scratching his head with one hand and holding a book open with the other. George took out his wand and tapped one of the stone legs three times with the end of it causing the whole sculpture to revolve forward revealing a hidden passageway behind it.

Fred led the way, quickly followed by Lee with George stepping through last and closing the doorway after him. Lighting their wands they navigated the tight meandering turns and steps until they were down on the ground floor near Filch's office. Fred pushed the door open a slight crack to let in a thin stream of light from the corridor. He pressed his eye up against the opening to see if the coast was clear, before pushing the doorway open to allow them to leave.

Fred led the creeping procession along the hallway; the open door of Filch's office could be seen ahead, the occasional flicker of a shadow from inside confirmed that there was someone inside. As the three boys got closer they could hear the caretaker's voice emanating from the room. Getting as close to the door as they dared the three boys listened in.

"I can't believe it is finally here Mrs Norris," said Filch from inside the room, "a brand new Secrecy Sensor. Top of the line this one is too, and just at the right time as well. Those third years are having their first Hogsmeade weekend this week and I bet they'll bring back a whole bunch of things from Zonko's, especially those Weasley boys. But I'll be waiting. Oh yes, one sweep of this and I bet they'll have enough on them to be shackled…"

George nodded to the other two to head back towards the hidden short cut where they could safely talk without the possibility of being overheard by anyone.

"I completely forgot about Hogsmeade this weekend," admitted Fred once they were back in the quite confines of the secret passageway

"Really?" asked Lee frowning in the dark, "because that's all anyone has been on about."

"It's because for everyone else it's their first time in Hogsmeade," said George thoughtfully, "we've been going about once a month since the first year so it's hardly something new for us."

"I bet Filch has been planning this since the first year," concluded Fred shaking his head.

"More than likely," agreed Lee, "I reckon he had all his hopes on catching you two bringing in a whole bunch of banned items so you'd be expelled straight away."

"Er… who was it that brought a Banshee Ball back last time?" Fred reminded his friend.

"That would be you," Lee answered, "_I _brought back the Blasting Jacks and those weren't banned at the time, although they were shortly after."

"Oh yeah," nodded Fred, "I still have the scars."

"Poor Filch is going to be so disappointed when he finds nothing on us," sighed George sympathetically.

"We really can't do that to our favourite caretaker can we?" asked Fred in a worried tone.

"Of course not," agreed George, "we'll have to think up something extra special for him to find on us."

"Like a Dungbomb?" ventured Lee.

"No," said Fred shaking his head, "we're gonna need something a little bigger then a Dungbomb for Filch."

"So… two Dungbombs?"

"Ah Lee," said George patting his friend on the shoulder, "this is one of those moments that requires something I like to refer to as a 'Fred and George Special Plan'."

"Great," sighed Lee, "I'm going to end up back in the Hospital Wing again, aren't I?"


	11. The Official Hogsmeade Weekend

"Hogsmeade is not a right, it is a privilege," stated McGonagall firmly. She was addressing the third years in front of the school on a cold and blustery autumn morning. Most of them had wrapped themselves up with various levels of clothing topped off with warm woollen hats. The older students had already left to go to the village but since it would be the first official time that the third years were allowed off of school grounds, the Deputy Headmistress through it necessary to give them a talk about their behaviour.

"When you are in Hogsmeade you are representatives of Hogwarts," she informed them with her arms grasped behind her back, "as such, you should behave as you do within in the school. That is to say, how you are suppose to behave in school." She clarified once she reminded herself that she was talking to a group that contained Fred and George.

"Over the years," she continued, "this school has had a very close relationship with the village of Hogsmeade and we would like to continue to be welcome there. So there will be no misbehaving," her eyes fell on the twins for this portion of the talk, "no mischief, no pranks, no running amuck, basically do not be doing anything in Hogsmeade that you wouldn't want to be caught doing in Hogwarts. Now, if you would all follow me."

McGonagall pulled a green tartan hat over her hair making sure it kept her ears warm and then headed off in the direction the older students had gone previously. The group of third years fell into line behind her, chatting excitedly to each other as they made their way to the only completely non-muggle village in Great Britain.

"I don't know why she was looking at us when she said that," complained Fred as he George and Lee brought up the rear of the group.

"I know," added George, "we've been to Hogsmeade plenty of times and we've never got into any trouble."

"Well, there was that stuff last year with Enoch and those Sect of Kai guys," admitted Lee.

"Oh we were nearly killed but we've nearly been killed plenty of times at Hogwarts so it's not as if we were doing anything different," countered Fred.

"You know, in some weird way that actually makes sense," said Lee.

"What's Montague going on about now?" muttered George as the voice of one of the Slytherins' filtered back to them.

"Of course I'm surprised that more Slytherins haven't moved to Hogsmeade," commented Montague "my family moved there generations ago and haven't looked back."

"Are there really no muggles at all?" asked one of the Slytherin girls walking along side him.

"Well, that's not strictly true I suppose," admitted Montague, "what I mean to say is that in Hogsmeade we don't have to hide the truth from the muggles. There are a few in the village that have married wizards or witches so there is the odd muggle about the place; I suppose someone has to keep the streets clean. Unfortunately it didn't turn into a place only for purebloods as my ancestors had initially hoped when they moved there but I suppose it's the best that can be managed under the circumstances."

"'The best that can be managed under the circumstances.' Can you believe that idiot?" said Lee shaking his head.

"He is a Slytherin," said George as a way of explanation, "so it's hardly his fault he is an idiot, he was born that way."

"Have you got something to say about Slytherins?" asked Montague who'd clearly heard George's comment.

"I have plenty of things to say about them," admitted George shrugging.

"Such as?" Montague had stopped, as had his group of hangers-on.

"Well for a start…"

Before he could finish his sentence, McGonagall was already striding towards them with a stern look on her face. It was as though she had a sixth sense when it came to trouble brewing. She quickly ushered the three Gryffindor students towards the front of the procession, much to their annoyance seeing as they were now firmly under her watchful eye.

The students finally made in into Hogsmeade and the majority of them quickly found themselves excitedly rushing between the various shop windows trying to work out which one to go into first. Fred, George and Lee, however, confidently strode towards the Three Broomsticks, pushed open the door and stepped into the warm building.

"What are you doing here?" asked Madam Rosmerta. She'd spotted them the moment they'd entered the bar and had quickly come from behind the counter to intercept them. She kept her voice low and kept looking over into one corner of the pub. "You picked the wrong day for this, a few of your teachers are over there. They haven't spotted you so you'd better sneak back out."

"Oh it's okay," said George smiling waving towards the group of teachers, "we're third years now, so we're allowed in to Hogsmeade officially. Hiya Hagrid."

"Oh," said Madam Rosmerta, "third years already? My my, time as certainly flown. The usual then?"

"Yep three Fire Whiskeys," nodded Fred, "and make them large ones."

"Three Butterbeers it is," replied Madam Rosmerta ruffling Fred's hair. She pointed towards an empty table, "I'll bring them over to you."

"So what's this great plan for Filch then?" asked Lee once the drinks had been brought over. He took a large gulp of the warm buttery liquid and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Ah," said George excitedly leaning in to the table. He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and slapped it down on the table. "Check this out."

"It looks like a map," said Lee examining the paper, "a badly drawn map."

"Hey," complained George snatching up the parchment, "I worked all night on this."

"All night?"

"Okay I scribbled it out before breakfast."

"So what's there then?" asked Lee point at a bold looking 'x' drawn onto the page, "some hidden treasure?"

"That's what Filch will think," beamed George, "and he'll no doubt go looking for it."

"And that's your great plan is it?" Lee said sceptically, "how can Filch finding a bunch of hidden treasure be described as a great plan?"

"Because there won't be any treasure there."

"Obviously, since you two are as skint as I am," shrugged Lee, "so we send Filch on a wild goose chase then?"

"No, for a start I wouldn't have a clue where we would get any geese from," admitted Fred scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"What we are going to do is get Filch to follow this map which will lead into a nasty little surprise for him," explained George ignoring his twin.

"…and plus I'm not sure how exactly we'd get Filch to chase them anyway."

"A nasty surprise?" grinned Lee.

"…maybe if they had some Galleons on them, but how would we stick them onto geese in the first place?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of a great big pit filled with dungbombs, stinkpellets, odourpatches," said George getting a look of approval from Lee.

"…I suppose we could use a Sticking Charm but it's not as if we have a whole bunch of Galleons lying around is it?"

"You don't think it'll be going a bit far?" asked Lee uncertainly, "he'll probably get pretty mad if he fell into that."

"Think of it this way," said George leaning back in his seat, "if Filch didn't go snooping around, sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted then he wouldn't end up in the Pit of Stench."

"Pit of Stench?"

"It's what I called it," said George proudly, "I named it after Fred's armpit."

"Unless we make up some fake Galle… hey!" Fred complained finally catching up on the conversation, "left armpit or right armpit?"

"Right armpit."

"Fair enough," admitted Fred after thinking about this for a few moments.

While the rest of the students in Hogsmeade were enjoying the various shops that the village had to offer, Lee and the twins were busying hiking though a wooded area on the outskirts. They'd previously stopped by Zonko's Joke Shop and picked up enough smell related trickery to fill a bag, which was being carefully carried by George.

"You could have drawn somewhere easy to get to," said Lee as he stumbled slightly, reaching a hand out to steady himself on a tree.

"When Filch finds the map in my pocket it has to be believable otherwise he won't go for it," explained George, "besides the harder it is to get to, the less chance of someone stumbling onto us while we are digging the pit. This'll do."

The three boys had stopped just at the edge of a small clearing in the wooded area covered in brown leaves.

"Er… this is probably a stupid question," said Lee looking around the area, "but did anyone bring any shovels?"

"You call yourself a wizard do you?" scoffed Fred taking out his wand.

"Work away," said Lee folding his arms and nodding towards the clearing.

"Er…," the look of smugness on Fred's face gradually gave way to a frown, "…oh."

"Exactly, we all have wands but we don't actually know a spell for digging, do we?" Lee pointed out.

"I'm sure we can come up with something," said George scratching his head.

"How about…" Fred pointed his wand at a patch of the ground, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

A lone leaf bobbed uncertainly up off the ground.

"Excellent," congratulated Lee, "we'll be done just in time for our N.E.."

"Yeah," agreed George as the two of them watched Fred gradually navigate the leaf to the edge of the clearing with a look of pure concentration etched onto his face, "any ideas what we could use to dig a hole?"

"Yeah," nodded Lee, "a shovel."

"I meant what spell," said George rolling his eyes.

"There," said Fred looking somewhat satisfied as he guided the leaf down onto the ground, "one down."

"What about a Summoning Charm?" asked Lee as he and George ignored Fred who was now working on moving a second leaf out of the way, "we could use it to pull the mud out of the ground."

"I suppose that could work," said George thoughtfully scratching his chin, "although I've never actually tried using that spell."

"What's to learn?" shrugged Lee, "as far as I can tell you just point the wand at what you want and go 'Accio'."

"You know, I'll be amazed if you don't end up teaching at Hogwarts," George admitted dryly.

"That's two," Fred decided to inform the other two before starting work on a third leaf.

"If you have any better suggestions I'll be glad to hear them," replied Lee curtly.

"No, anything is better then Fred's plan," said George getting his wand ready, as he tried to picture the last time he'd seen someone cast the spell. He pointed it down at the ground and concentrated. "Accio mud."

Nothing happened.

"Accio mud," Lee tried this time; he added a slight flick of the wand just in case this would make any difference. It didn't.

"_Ac_-cio mud," the two boys began to try as many different variations of pronunciation and wand gesticulation as they could.

"_A_-ccio mud."

"Ac-_cio_ mud."

"Wingardium Leviosa."

"Accio mud, hey, I think I saw something move a bit there," said George excitedly, "I might be onto something here. Accio mud."

"Er… George," some nagging piece of information that had been trying to get Lee attention for the last few minutes finally managed to make itself heard in his brain.

"Accio mud. See? It's definitely doing something right."

"George," said Lee urgently.

"Accio mud. I think if I just get the wand movement right we'll be laughing."

"George, maybe it isn't such a good…"

"Accio mud!"

The world was suddenly full of mud.

"…idea."

The landscape of the clearing had changed somewhat. On the plus side, there was now a sizeable, although not very neat, hole in the centre of the glade. On the down side the mud that up until now had enjoyed a rather happy life occupying the space where the hole appeared now found itself relocated to a new place. Unfortunately the new place also happened to be the same one occupied by Fred, George and Lee.

"As I was just about to point out," said Lee slowly wiping the mud off his face, "Accio, is a Summoning Charm, and if we managed to get it right we'd be summoning mud towards us."

"You couldn't have come up with that a little earlier could you?" wondered George.

"Okay, let's make the best of a bad situation shall we?" sighed Lee pulling a large lump of dirt out of his hair and fantasising about a nice long bath once he'd got back to Hogwarts.

George pulled the bag off his shoulder and upturned the contents into the bottom of the pit. The three boys quickly worked to cover the hole using a number of loose sticks and branches lying about on the ground, before retrieving handfuls of leaves to thrown on top of the creation and disguise it further.

"There," said Lee smiling as he wiped his hands together, "looks just about perfect."

"It could do with one slight finishing touch," admitted Fred, he pointed his wand at a bunch of leaves at his feet, "Wingardium Leviosa."

"I can't believe we are related," sighed George as his brother carefully guided a floating leaf on top of the hidden pit.

"I know what you mean," agreed Fred, "but don't worry, I'm sure one day you'll be as talented as I am."

The boys, still covered head to toe in mud, decided to head back towards the school since they very much doubted any of the shop owners would welcome them in with open arms after getting a look at them. Since they were already on the outskirts of the village it didn't take them long to make the journey back to the school gate.

As they approached the entrance they could hear a sudden rustling from the bushes to the side. After a few moments of uncertainty the triumphant figure of the school caretaker emerged from the undergrowth.

"Ha!" Filch smiled malevolently waving his Secrecy Sensor in the air, "I have you now."

"Mr Filch," said Fred looking into the undergrowth, where a small seat had been place which had a copy of the Daily Prophet and a few discarded sandwiches along with a box containing a number of items that he knew were all banned in the school, "have you been out here all day?"

"Didn't think I'd do that did you?" sneered Filch still brandishing his new toy around, "but it's worth it to catch you three in the act of smuggling. Oh I already caught some others coming back from the village but they were small fry compared to catching you."

"Smuggling?" frowned Lee.

"Yes smuggling," snorted Filch, he pulled out a rather hefty looking scroll from his pocket. "This here is a list of every item that has been banned at the school, I know this list of by heart, and if you have anything on this list on you then… why in Merlin's name are you covered in mud?"

"Don't you follow fashion?" asked George raising an eyebrow. He looked Filch up and down. "I guess not, anyway, it's the latest craze: the mud look."

"The mud look? Honestly, you children get worse every year," complained Filch shaking his head.

"In my day," Fred muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" snapped Filch.

"Nothing," replied Fred before giving a few coughs, "just had something in my throat."

"Oh, well anyway," said Filch carrying on, "in my day... why are you smirking?"

"Sore throat," said Lee coughing theatrically "must be something going around."

"Oh I see," said Filch narrowing his eyes, "thought you'd try and distract me did you? Make me forget all about the illegal contraband you three are carrying."

"We aren't carrying any illegal contraband," sighed George.

"I'll be the judge of that," snapped Filch, he waved the Secrecy Sensor under their noses, "do you know what this is?"

"Is it a butterfly catcher?" asked Lee looking at the gold coloured piece of metal that the caretaker held in his hand.

"Don't be silly, there's no net for a start," Fred pointed out.

"This is a Secrecy Sensor," stated Filch firmly looking thoroughly impressed with himself.

"Oh, for when you play hide and seek?" said George jovially, "and is that why you are happy to see us? You want to play a game? With us? Don't you have any friends your own age?"

"No, I don't want to play a game," snapped Filch, "this is for… wait, what do you mean 'friends my own age', of course I have friends my own age."

"It's just we've never really seen…" George started but was cut off by the caretaker.

"Just because you've never seen them, doesn't mean they don't exist," Filch continued his rant, "I have plenty of friends, dozens, hundreds in fact."

"I was just saying…" George tried again.

"I can't go a single day without getting a whole bunch of owls asking me to meet up with so and so or join someone for a dinner party," stated Filch quickly, "it's amazing that I have any free time to myself whatsoever."

There was an embarrassed silence that hung in the air between the caretaker and the three boys. At roughly the same time they all became aware that the Secrecy Sensor was vibrating quite urgently in Filch's hand.

"Why is it doing that?" asked Lee pointing at the device.

"Well it's a Secrecy Sensor," said Fred, "it vibrates when it detects someone concealing something or when someone lies. So these multitude of friends that you mentioned…"

"It's obviously vibrating because you three are concealing something," snapped Filch quickly cutting the boy's sentence short.

"We aren't" replied Lee. He looked down at his clothes, "well, maybe some more mud but nothing else."

"A likely story," said Filch pointing at the Secrecy Sensor, "look, it's vibrating which means you're lying."

"It was already vibrating," Lee tried to explain.

"Then obviously it could sense that you were about to lie," countered Filch.

"They don't work like that," Fred frowned.

"Oh and I suppose you know all about Secrecy Sensors do you?" Filch snorted prodding Fred in the chest with the object in question, "have you ever read through the instruction manual?"

"No, have you?"

"I don't need to read instructions," snapped Filch, "I know how these work, now stand still while I find the contraband."

The three boys patiently waited as Filch passed the Secrecy Sensor over them. Both Fred and Lee's examination went by uneventfully, although the caretaker seemed adamant that his own personal sixth sense for trouble had picked something up and he ended up passing the device repeated over the two of them. It wasn't until he moved onto George that he got the result he was looking for.

"Aha!" beamed Filch gleefully as the Sensor began to vibrate as he brought it near to one of George's pockets, "turn out that pocket."

"There's nothing in there," said George playing along as he pulled the pocket inside out.

"Your hand," snapped Filch pointing at George, "what did you take out of your pocket?"

"This?" George held up the parchment with the hastily draw map on it, "it's just a shopping list of stuff that I was suppose to get in Hogsmeade."

"Oh is it really?" asked Filch sarcastically, as the Sensor vibrated harder in the presence of George's lie. "Give it here."

The caretaker snatched the piece of paper from George's hand and unfolded it, after a few seconds of looking at it his eyes suddenly lit up.

"A map is it?" he looked the mud covered three boys up and down, "So what did you bury there then?"

"Nothing," said Fred firmly. The Secrecy Sensor vibrated into life.

"Ha!" said Filch triumphantly holding up the device, "nothing eh? Not according to this."

"Look Mr Filch," George said, suddenly backing away as the caretaker swung the Sensor under his nose, "trust me on this, you don't want to follow that map. It'll just end badly for you."

"Badly? End badly? Don't you tell me what to do," snarled Filch, "I'm a member of staff, and you are just students so don't forget who's in charge here. I'll have you expelled this time. You might as well just go and pack now."

Filch pushed passed George and headed down the path away from the school. The three boys watched him as he left.

"He almost looks like he's about to start skipping," commented Lee as the caretaker disappeared around the corner.

"We always make him so happy," admitted Fred.

"Well, for a little while at least," added George.

****

"Another glass of Rosewater Minerva?" asked Madam Rosemerta as she collected the glass from the table.

"Why not?" smiled McGonagall. The landlady asked Flitwick and Hagrid, who were also sat with the Transfiguration teacher, if they wanted refills as well. The freshly poured drinks were placed on the table just as Filch entered the pub and looked around. He spotted McGonagall and quickly made his way over.

"Mr Filch," Flitwick greeted the caretaker, "so glad you could join us."

"I'm not here to join you," explained Filch gruffly, he flicked his gaze over to McGonagall; "I found this on one of your students."

"What is it? Some sort of map?" asked McGonagall wearily looking at the parchment that had just been handed to her.

"Yes and they've buried something there," stated Filch firmly.

"Will yer ever give it a rest?" complained Hagrid, "they're jus' kids."

"Of course I expected you to be soft on those miscreants but I doubt our Deputy Headmistress fills the same."

"Which 'miscreants' are we talking about exactly?" asked McGonagall handing the piece of paper back to Filch. "Not Fred and George Weasley again?"

"Yes, them again."

"Mr Filch," sighed McGonagall, "so far this year alone you have come to me with no less then seventy-two complaints about their behaviour."

"Yes…"

"And each time, you have failed to provide any actual evidence of any wrong doings."

"I don't need evidence," snorted Filch, "every time they were definitely up to something, I could feel it in my bones."

"I'm sure you did," McGonagall said carefully, "but if we punished every student whom you felt in your bones was up to something then we'd have the whole school in detention."

"Yes," nodded Filch failing to see anything wrong with this idea.

"So unless you have any more proof other then that drawing…"

"But I will have proof," admitted Filch, "I'm going to follow the map and dig up whatever it is they buried."

"And I expect that you want me to come along to witness this evidence?"

"Of course," agreed Filch, "the last time I came to you with a complaint about those two you said that I had some kind of vendetta against them. This time you'll witness their wrongdoing yourself."

"Very well Mr Filch," said McGonagall resignedly. She stood up and grabbed her cloak from behind her chair. She turned to Flitwick and Hagrid, "this shouldn't take too long. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Take yer time," said Hagrid lifting his drink to his lips, "we aren't going anywhere."


	12. Halloween

Late in October the Hogwarts students were pleasantly woken by the smell of baked pumpkin wafting through the corridors, which in turn had been adorned with Halloween decorations streaming throughout the whole school.

"No matter how many years I am here, I'll never get tired of this," said Fred inhaling deeply as he, George and Lee made their way down to their Transfiguration class.

"You really like McGonagall's lessons that much?" asked Lee raising an eyebrow.

"No, I meant the baked pumpkins," replied Fred taking another intoxicating breath, as they wandered through the door of the class.

Early on in their school careers they had learnt that there were only two lessons that you made sure you weren't late for; Transfigurations and Potions. Most of the other teachers were more forgiving than McGonagall and Snape when it came to tardiness; in fact the twins had discovered that Professor Binns didn't even notice if students turned up to his class at all let alone if they were late, something that they used to their full advantage to enjoy a long lie in every Thursday morning.

"I wonder what we'll be doing today?" said George as the three boys settled into their seats behind Alicia and Angelina.

"Probably something boring again," complained Alicia, "ever since Hogsmeade she has been so uptight, well more than usual anyway."

"You three have a lot to answer for," said Angelina turning around and glaring at the three boys.

"Us?" said George looking offended. "It's not our fault we keep getting dull stuff."

"It's your fault McGonagall is in a bad mood therefore it is your fault that we are having boring lessons."

"You don't know it was our fault she is in a bad mood," countered Fred.

"Let's look at the facts shall we," said Alicia, "one: McGonagall returns to escort the third years back to Hogwarts covered head to toe in some disgusting smelling concoction…"

"You can't blame her choice of perfume on us," replied Lee folding his arms.

"Two:" Alicia carried on, ignoring the interruption, "when she gets back she calls you and the Idiot Brothers to her office for the next hour…"

"Lee Jordan and the Idiot Brothers," mused Lee thoughtfully, "not a bad name for a band."

"And three: you lot are put in detention every day for a month. It doesn't take a genius to link everything together."

Before either the twins or Lee could come up with a better argument McGonagall had entered the class room and closed the door behind her with a decisive thump. The students immediately stopped talking and faced the front of the room as McGonagall approached her desk.

"Today we'll be learning about the art of Animagi," McGonagall turned to address her class. She nodded towards Alicia who was holding her hand up, "yes Miss Spinnet?"

"Will we need our wands for this?"

"No," there was a slightly rumbling of groans under people's breath with a few pointed looks given in the directions of the twins and Lee. "Please open your books to page four hundred and forty seven and begin reading until the end of the chapter."

The class read in silence as they worked their way through the passages. The only sounds came from the occasionally stifling of the odd yawn and the low rustling as a page was turned.

"Right," said McGonagall once she was satisfied that the majority of people had finished reading the chapter, "who can tell me the difference between an Animagus in their animal form and someone who has been transformed into an animal by a wizard or witch?"

A few hands went up, including, surprisingly, Fred's. McGonagall's eyes flickered over his upraised palm.

"It should be noted that a correct answer will result in a House Point," McGonagall informed them, "but a blatantly silly answer will result in detention."

Fred lowered his hand sheepishly.

"Yes Miss Johnson?" McGonagall nodded towards the Gryffindor student.

"In their animal form Animagus still completely maintain their human minds," stated Angelina, "while someone who has been transformed into an animal only maintain their minds for a short time and will gradually revert towards the mind of an animal the longer they remained transformed."

"Excellent," McGonagall gave her a look of approval, "one point to Gryffindor."

The questions continued for most of the rest of the lesson, and while most of them were answered deftly by the class members, Fred and George spent most of their time trying to stifle yawns and watching the large clock on the wall, willing the second hand to tick by faster. Eventually their prayers were answered and the lesson came to an end. The students filtered out excitedly as that evening was the night of the Halloween feast.

Although the three boys were now in their third year they couldn't help but still be impressed by the Halloween decorations in the Great Hall. Along the sides of the walls were reams of orange and black ribbons that snaked in and out of the various pictures and portraits that hung the wall, dotted about the room were several large pumpkins that had been carved into different ghoulish faces and charmed to appear lifelike. There was a number of smaller carved pumpkins on the tables themselves, these however hadn't been animated and instead contained candles within them, although since they were magical candles the flames changed colours on occasion to give the room a multicolour hue.

The younger students kept looking up uncertainly at the swarm of bats that hung from the walls and ceiling, alternating between screaming and ducking as a cloud of them suddenly dispatched themselves from the wall and flew overhead across the width of the room. It took them a while to get use to the fluttering of the wings and the sudden flicking of the candles as another group of bats took to the air, but after much reassuring from the older students they soon began to relax and would only occasionally flinch as one of the winged creatures flew too close as they passed.

"Now this is how you celebrate Halloween," admitted Lee settling down in front of a table. Instead of the normal plates that were used everyday, the places were instead set with the golden variety normally used at the beginning and end of year feasts.

"I think it should be decorated like this every day," said George looking around the room just as the Halloween feast materialised in front of them.

"Wouldn't you get bored after a bit?" said Lee slicing open a baked potato.

"Nah," replied George shovelling a forkful of food into his mouth, "you'd think I'd get bored of teasing Percy but I still love it. It's basically the same thing."

"How is that the same th…"

Lee's question remained unasked as at that moment Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall and sprinted down the centre of the room. He had a look of pure panic on his face and his held his hand up to his turban that had become lopsided as he scampered towards the teachers table.

Every student followed his journey with unwavering fascination, most had a look of bemusement on their faces while some gave out an occasional nervous laugh.

Quirrell slumped onto the table in front of Dumbledore's chair and gasped for breath, "Troll… in the dungeons… thought you ought to know." He finished the sentence before sinking to the ground as he fainted.

The room exploded into uproar. As students started panicking, their screams and shouts frighten the bats still hanging from the walls and ceiling into launching themselves into flight. The pupils now varied their screams between worrying about the troll and worrying about the bats. Despite the prefects' best efforts to bring the situation under control in the end it took several purple firecrackers exploding from Dumbledore's wand to bring a relative moment of quiet.

"Please remain calm," his voice echoed out reassuringly. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately."

"Merlin's Beard look at Percy," said Fred lean towards Lee and George, "it's like Christmas has come early for him."

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me. I'm a prefect," Percy bellowed leading the Gryffindor first years out of the Great Hall; he was clearly in his element.

"You'd wonder how a Troll got in wouldn't you?" said Lee as the three boys filtered into the crowd of students trying to leave the Great Hall.

"They are stupid at the best of times," admitted George shrugging, "it probably smelt the baked pumpkins, wandered out of the forest into the school and got lost in the dungeons."

"You'd think they'd have something in place to stop stuff like that happening," said Lee thoughtfully.

"Yeah like a fence or something," agreed George.

"A fence wouldn't stop a Troll getting through," advised Fred shaking his head.

"So you're saying they'd probably need a sign?" asked George, "something along the lines of 'stop, this is a school for children not the inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest.'"

"That'll be a pretty big sign," said Fred scratching his chin, "plus you'd have to translate it into all the difference languages. Do Trolls even have their own language?"

"I have no idea," admitted Lee, "we could always ask I suppose."

"Ask the Troll?" Fred turned to his friend with a smile on his face.

"Are you suggesting that against the orders of Dumbledore to return to our dormitories that instead we should head down to the dungeons on the off chance we'll meet a Troll?" asked George looking at his friend.

"Well how many chances are we going to have to see a Troll up close?" replied Lee.

"See? And people always say that it is us who lead you astray," Fred beamed.

Amid the confusion of the situation the three boys managed to detach themselves from the procession of Gryffindor students and fell into line with those heading towards Slytherin House. As they approached a tapestry that they knew had a hidden doorway behind it, the three boys sunk down to their knees and pretended to be tying their shoelaces as they waited for the line of Slytherin students to pass them by.

Free from witnesses they pushed passed the wall-hanging and into the hidden corridor beyond. George led the way as the three boys carefully made their way down to the bottom of a stairwell which let them out in the cold surroundings of the dungeon.

"Where now?" asked Lee looking around in the darkness, the three boys took out their wands and used them to light the way.

"No idea," admitted George, "I left the Marauders' Map in our room."

"Well Slytherin House is that way," said Fred pointing down one of the corridors, "so we'll probably want to stay away from there."

"Good thinking," said Lee as the three of them turned to head in the other direction.

"It's definitely been down here," said George pinching his nose, "that's disgusting."

"Er… actually that was me," said Fred bashfully, "sorry, it was the roasted sprouts."

"We're just lucky there are no candles around," admitted Lee trying to covering his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh for Godric-sake, seriously what is wrong with you?" admonished George a few minutes later, jamming his hand over his face.

"Okay, that wasn't me," Fred advised them, this time pinching his own nose, "it's getting worse too."

"I think he's right," said Lee pointing further down the corridor. Up ahead in the dark hallway was an open door, the light from inside the room shone brightly against the wall opposite, a shadow flickered back and forth.

"Looks like this is it," whispered George as the three of them edged their way closer to the light.

"I think that is the boys' toilets," said Lee trying to remember the layout of the dungeons from their Potion lessons.

"We could lock it in," said Fred as they got close enough to see the open door pushed back against the inside wall.

"Worth a try," admitted George.

Before they could get any closer to the door, there was suddenly a loud explosion followed by the sound of a torrent of water splashing hard against the ground.

"ARGHHHH!" a horrific cry came from inside the boys toilets, suddenly a dank foul smelling figure lurched out into the corridor.

"Run for it!" ordered George just before all three of the boys fired off the first spell that came into their heads at the disgusting creature. Not waiting to see if they'd stopped the beast in its tracks the boys turned tail and sprinted back in the direction they came from not pausing until they were back in the hidden passageway that had led them down to the dungeon.

"Merlin's Beard," gasped Lee sinking down to his knees to catch his breath, "that Troll was disgusting."

"I know," agreed George gratefully taking in a large lungful of air, "he smelt worse then Charlie's socks."

"Really? Charlie's socks?" asked Fred breathing hard, "I would have said that was about even."

The boys made their way up the hidden passageway, and peered out from behind the tapestry. Just as they were about to step into the corridor they had to quickly hide again as McGonagall hurried passed once they were sure that no one else was going to be coming by they continued on their journey through the school up to Gryffindor House.

"Pig snout," said George, causing the Fat Lady to slowly open up. A wave of noise passed over them. The Common Room was packed with people; everyone was eating the food from the Halloween feast that had been sent up to them. The boys went and quickly grabbed a plate each and piled food onto them from the various dishes arranged on a table against the wall.

"Where have you three been?" asked Angelina as George squeezed himself onto the arm of her chair.

"Oh nowhere really," said George casually as he balanced his plate with one hand and pick at the food with the fork, "just been fighting the Troll."

"The Troll?" Alicia asked wide-eyed.

"Don't mind them," dismissed Angelina, "they're just kidding."

"Nope, I'm telling the truth," stated George, he looked at Angelina's expression of disbelief, "I know, it's weird, but honestly we fought the Troll down in the dungeons. If you don't believe me ask Lee, he never lies."

"Is it true?" said Angelina turning her focus to Lee.

"Not entirely," admitted Lee, "I tell the odd lie but compared to these two that's nothing."

"No you idiot, I meant about the Troll."

"Oh that, yeah that's true," nodded Lee, "we headed down to the dungeon and ran into it."

"What did you do?" asked Alicia excitedly

"We faced it down like the lions we are," said Fred puffing out his chest.

"You ran away didn't you?" asked Angelina raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, but bravely, like lions," concluded Fred.

"How do you run away bravely?" queried Alicia.

"It's quite difficult," admitted George, "but somehow we managed it."

"So you actually saw the Troll?" enquired Alicia eagerly.

"Yeah," nodded Lee swallowing his mouthful of food, "it was disgusting, and smelt worse then it looked, there was one weird thing though."

"Which was?"

"Well I always thought that Trolls were supposed to be over ten feet tall, but this one was only about six foot at a push."

"Maybe it was only a young Troll," said Alicia thoughtfully.

"Looks like you three weren't the only ones to have got distracted on the way back here," Angelina nodded towards the doorway where Harry Potter and the twins' youngest brother Ron had just stepped through. They were met by the bushy haired and rather bossy first year girl called Hermione and exchanged a few words before they headed to the table with the food. The twins beckoned them over.

"Where have you two been?" George asked them as they managed to slot into a spare spot next to the wall.

"In the girls' toilets," said Ron taking a mouthful of food.

"I always knew you were the weird one in the family," said Fred shaking his head, "which is lucky, because for a long time I suspected it might have been me."

"We fought the Troll; it was in the girls' toilets," explained Harry.

"_You_ fought the Troll as well?" asked Angelina looking pointedly towards the twins, "just how many are there wandering around the school?"

"You can't have fought the Troll," complained Fred shaking his head, "we fought it."

"Oh we definitely did," nodded Ron enthusiastically, "Harry jumped on its back and stuck his wand up its nose, and I knocked it out with its own club. McGonagall herself awarded us five points each."

"Where was this Troll again?" asked Lee his brow crinkled in confusion.

"The girls' toilets on the ground floor," said Harry taking a bite out of a baked potato.

"There is no way it managed to get from the boys' toilets in the dungeons up to the ground floor girls' toilets in such a short space of time," said George thoughtfully tapping his chin with his finger, "maybe there was two after all."

"What did this Troll look like?" Angelina inquired.

"It was horrible," admitted Ron, excited to be the focus of attention, "about twelve feet tall, gray skin, with a huge great lumpy body, stubby legs and a balding head."

"Twelve feet tall? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," agreed Harry, "I got quite close to it, and it was definitely that big."

"Well that settles that then," said Angelina looking at the twins triumphantly, "there is no way what you three came across was a Troll."

"I wonder what the hell it could have been?" said Fred frowning.

****

"Ah Minerva," Dumbledore greeted the Deputy Headmistress as she entered his office, "I trust everything is in order."

"Yes Headmaster," she said crossing the room to stand in front of Dumbledore's desk, "the Troll was actually subdued in the girls' toilets by Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. I awarded them both five points for their efforts, although I advised them of how dangerous their actions were."

"Youthful folly my dear Minerva," smiled Dumbledore, "you should have seen what I got up to in my first year. Hogwarts is a place of learning, and what better way to learn then through our own mistakes. It's probably too late to get everyone back down to the Great Hall so I think we shall leave them to enjoy the feasts in their own Common Rooms."

"Very good Headmaster," nodded McGonagall, "there is one more thing you should know about?"

"And what is that?"

"There was a problem with one of the toilets in the boys' bathroom in the dungeons, it seems the water was backing up and flooding the floor." explained McGonagall, "I believe Peeves may have had a hand in blocking it. I still don't understand why you tolerate him."

"A Hogwarts without Peeves would be like Quidditch without a Snitch, it could work but it just wouldn't be as fun."

"Or as dangerous," countered McGonagall, "anyway, I dispatched Mr Filch to fix the problem and it seems that Peeves managed to get hold of some Ever Exploding Waterproof Fireworks and somehow used them to block to toilet, when Mr Filch was trying to clear the blockage, Peeves set them off."

"Ah… a rather messy outcome I am assuming?"

"Yes," agreed McGonagall, "not only did Filch get covered in… well… I won't say it exactly but I'm sure you can imagine, but it appears Peeves may have followed up with a few hexes. Madam Pompfrey is currently attending to him but I suspect the use of at least the leg-lock curse and a hic-cupping hex."

"Peeves using hexes?" sighed Dumbledore, "so he managed to get hold of another wand did he? Well I suppose we should be grateful that the school is still standing especially after what happened last time. I will have a word with him and ask him to return the wand to its rightful owner."

"Very good, but there is another reason why I informed you about all this."

"Yes?"

"Filch is on his way up to demand that Peeves be kicked out of the school, and I thought I'd better let you know so you could take precautions."

"Such as?"

"A Bubble-Head charm should do the trick," said McGonagall grimly, "he hasn't had a shower yet."


	13. A Bad Idea

As the month changed to November, the weather turned extremely cold. The peaks of the mountains surrounding the school became thick with snow and the lake became so icy that only the bravest or most foolhardy would dare dip even a toe into the freezing water. Every morning there was a fresh crisp frost on grounds of the school, and, despite the numerous fireplaces and heating spells used by the teachers to keep their lessons warm, the corridors did not give much protection from the cold. Especially seeing as Peeves took much delight in opening as many windows in the school as he could.

Outside of classes, most of the students had taken to retreating to the warmth of the Common Rooms where the crackling fires gave some refuge from the harsh winter conditions.

"That's it," said George huddled up gratefully in front of the fireplace. He had a heavy looking jumper on and had pulled his hands back into the sleeves for extra warmth, "I don't care what happens, I'm not moving from this fire the whole weekend."

"What about lunch and dinner?" asked Lee relaxing in the basking glow of the flames. He too was similarly dressed in warm looking clothes and was rubbing his hands together before exposing them to the fire.

"Well you and Fred can just pick me something up from the table," said George waving a hand dismissively. He closed his eyes and let out a long satisfied sigh.

"What about if you need the toilet?" asked Fred raising an eyebrow, "don't think Lee and I are helping you out with that."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," replied George after a few moments of thoughtful consideration.

There was a clattering of footsteps coming from stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. The three boys shifted their position so they could see what the commotion was. They were greeted to the sight of Angelina, Alicia and Katie all rushing down the stairs, hurriedly trying to force on shoes or wrapping coats and scarves around themselves.

"No need to hurry ladies," said George, "there's plenty of time to get me a Christmas present, it's only November after all, but if you must insist, there are a number of Zonko items that I have my eye on."

"Very funny," snorted Angelina plonking a large woollen hat down over her head and pulling it down over her ears, "we're getting out of here, apparently Oliver is on his way up."

"And what?" said Fred leaning back in his chair lazily, "you just can't stand being around him? Oliver seems to have that effect on women."

"Well according to Emma Singleton," explained Katie quickly as Angelina tapped her foot impatiently, "she overheard Kevin McGillycud being told by Aziza Bexley that he'd seen Maxwell Chesterly and Leanne Burbank talking about how _they_ had overheard Oliver talking to Madam Hooch about booking the Quidditch pitch for after breakfast."

"So?" frowned Lee shrugging.

"Quidditch practice? In this weather?" Alicia asked wide-eyed.

Lee and the twins looked over at the window. If someone had said that 'it was a bit windy outside' it would have been like them saying that 'Voldemort had been a bit naughty' when he tried to take over the wizarding world. There is a pastime enjoyed by a very select, and some would say down right potty, group of wizards. It's called Windriding, and basically, involves flying your broom into the heart of a storm and trying to stay on for as long as possible. Windriders are some of the bravest or, depending on your point of view, insane, members of wizarding society and even they would have looked out of the window and decided that a nice cup of tea and a warm blanket would be a better idea.

"He wouldn't make us practice in this," said Fred uncertainly. The wind was buffeting against the glass so hard that it made an ungodly sound as it rushed passed.

"This is Oliver we are talking about," stated Angelina still tapping her foot and looking across at the back of the portrait opening

"What in Godric's name are we waiting for?" exclaimed George jumping up instantly.

"What about a coat?" asked Fred looking towards the boys' dormitories.

"No time," Lee retorted as the group headed towards the portrait hole.

As Angelina reached the doorway, it swung open into the corridor. She had to stop abruptly as someone was trying to get through.

"Ah Angelina," the voice of Oliver echoed out into the room, "I was just coming to see you, who's that behind you? Katie, and Alicia as well? Brilliant."

"Hi Oliver," said Katie and Alicia glumly. Angelina stepped back into the Common Room to allow the Quidditch Captain in.

"Good news," Oliver beamed at his team, "Slytherin had the Quidditch pitch booked for this morning, but for some reason they decided to cancel their practice. Once I found that out, I was right over to Madam Hooch and luckily she said it was ours if we wanted it."

"You really can't see why they would have cancelled their practice?" asked Angelina folding her arms and thinking that she had almost made it to freedom.

"No, why?"

As if to answer Oliver, at that moment a large screech owl that had been trying desperately to get back to the owlery smacked against the window as a strong gale caught hold of it. Everyone in the room looked at the sight of the stricken creature disappearing from view before looking back at the Quidditch Captain, who still had an expression of utter ignorance etched onto his face.

"Owls eh? They should watch where they are going more. So anyway," said Oliver rubbing his hands together, "I already saw Harry on my way up, so he already knows, we just need to find Fred and George."

"Fred and George? They're right…" Alicia frowned before looking behind her. Neither Lee nor the twins were standing there anymore, "… there?"

Angelina stepped forward and drew her gaze over the room, after a few moments she locked her eyes onto one of the large armchairs in the corner of the room. She headed over and looked behind it. She reached down.

"Ouch, hey…" complained Fred steadily getting to his feet as Angelina pulled him up by one of his ears. She let go once he was standing, "ow, that really hurt. Oh hi Oliver, I didn't see you there."

"Hi…er… why were you hiding behind the armchair?"

"I wasn't hiding," dismissed Fred still rubbing his ear, "I…er… dropped something and was just looking for it."

"What did you drop?" asked Angelina pointedly, "your spine?"

"You should just better hope that you didn't damage my ear," complained Fred, he turned around to look in a mirror that hung on the wall of the Common Room, "I think you stretched it, it looks stretched to me."

"Did you hear the good news?" asked Oliver looking at Fred's reflection in the mirror.

"No," lied Fred, turning back around once he was satisfied that his ear was still the same size it had been when he woke up that morning. He pointed towards the window, "I couldn't hear anything over the hurricane currently going on outside."

"Oh well I've booked the Quidditch pitch for practice," Oliver informed him completely ignoring the subtle hint. "Slytherin had it booked but they cancelled."

"Obviously," nodded Fred, clamouring out from behind the armchair, before resting back on its arm, "only a complete idiot would give up the chance of trying to fly in that storm."

"I know, right?" Oliver Wood: naturally impervious to sarcasm. "Where's your brother?"

"I think I know," said Angelina standing next to a bulky set of curtains. She nodded her head down. Sticking out of the bottom of the drape were two feet. She pulled it back dramatically.

"Hi guys," said Lee awkwardly standing behind the curtain.

"Hi Lee," nodded Oliver, "have you seen er… the other one? Sorry, I still can't tell you apart."

"That's okay, I'm Fred. You'll be able to tell us apart now since I'm the one with the slightly lopsided ear."

"Why were you hiding?" asked Angelina Lee quietly, ignoring Fred's complaining, "it's not as if you are on the team."

"I panicked." He replied sheepishly. Luckily for Lee, everyone else was suddenly distracted by the sound of a loud sneeze emanating from underneath a chaise-lounge at the side of the room.

"Alright?" said Alicia bending over and addressing George, who had somehow impressively managed to scuttle under the chair without being seen.

"Hiya Alicia, damn dust," said George gradually crawling out, "hey Oliver."

"Did you…?"

"Yes, yes," George interrupted him and nodding, "Quidditch practice, Slytherin cancelled, yay for us."

"Excellent," smiled Oliver looking decidedly happy. He looked up at the clock on the wall, "okay down at the pitch in an hour then."

"Would any one really mind if I killed him?" asked Angelina after Oliver bounded up the stairs to the boys' dormitory."

"I would," admitted Fred still watching the stairs, "mainly because I what to be the one to do it."

"Honestly where is your team spirit?" asked Lee pointedly settling down in front of the toasty warm fire, "if I was on the team I'd be out there practicing during rain, wind and snow. Of course I'm not, so sadly instead I'll just stay here and keep warm.

"Would any one mind if I killed _him _instead?" said Angelina nodding towards Lee.

****

"Okay I changed my mind," said Fred as he stood with his brother and the Chasers, "I don't care if I don't get to be the one to kill Oliver but could someone just get on and do it so I can get back inside?"

The five Gryffindor students were huddled together at the side of the Quidditch pitch, each of them were wrapped from head to toe in as many warm clothes as they could manage. In fact, George had gone the extra mile, located a number of hot water bottles, and stuffed them inside his coat for good measure.

"Here comes our fearless leader," stated Fred stamping his feet on the frost covered ground. The group looked over their shoulders to see Oliver approaching the pitch. He was talking animatedly with the team's new Seeker, Harry Potter, who looked as cold as the rest of them. They were carrying the equipment trunk that contained the various balls used during the game.

"Morning team," Oliver greeted them smiling.

"Oliver are you serious about us flying in this?" asked Angelina pointing behind her.

"What's wrong with it?" said Oliver, raising his voice so that he could be heard above the wind, "it's bracing."

"Bracing? Suicide is what it is," complained Angelina.

"It's good practice," Oliver countered, "what happens if the day of our first match the weather is like this?"

"Then Madam Hooch would call off the match and we'd replay it another week," replied Alicia.

"Call off a Quidditch match? For a little bit of wind? I don't think so," said Oliver shaking his head in amusement.

"Fine, watch this," snapped Angelina. She stepped forward, opened the equipment trunk and took out the Quaffle. She held it in her hand for a moment before launching it high into the air. The team watched as the ball was caught by the wind and dragged down the far end of the pitch before hitting the ground, even after it touched down it continued to roll for a good while before coming to a stop. Angelina turned back to Oliver with her hands on her hips.

"What's your point?"

"My point," exclaimed Angelina "is that we physically can't play in this weather."

"Of course you can," stated Oliver thinking that the only thing wrong was that his team lacked confidence to fly in the windy conditions, "you guys are easily good enough to play in this weather."

"I give up," snorted Angelina throwing her hands up.

"Let me try a different approach," advised Fred. He placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder, "Oliver, you know and I know, that practice makes perfect."

"Exactly."

"And that normally we would all gladly love to put in extra Quidditch practice no matter what the conditions," Fred continued to inform his captain, "but if we practice today there is a very good chance that one of us could get injured by a twig or stone…"

"Or a Chaser smacking someone over the head with their broom," muttered Angelina under her breath.

"… being blown into their face," said Fred ignoring his friend, "and the last thing we want is to have an injured player so close to our next game."

"You know I hadn't even considered that," admitted Oliver thoughtfully, "do you really think someone could get injured in this?"

"Oliver, do you see that tree over there?" said Fred pointing towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, "well up until about ten minutes ago it was standing upright. Yes, I think there is a very good chance someone could get injured in this weather."

"I suppose," admitted Oliver reluctantly, "but we've got the pitch booked all morning so if the weather gets better we'll come back out okay."

"Of course," agreed Fred in voice that was generally only used by people carefully negotiating hostage situations.

The relieved group headed back towards the castle, they huddled together as best as they could to try to conserve warmth between them until they gratefully got inside the school.

"If the weather doesn't die down today, maybe we'll fit in some extra practice tomorrow morning," sighed Oliver still looking hopefully at the outside blustering gale.

"On a Sunday morning?" asked George raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah it'll be perfect," nodded Oliver, "no one ever books the Quidditch pitch for practice on a Sunday morning."

"That's probably because they are all enjoying a nice long lie in," Katie pointed out.

"Really?" frowned Oliver, "Why?"

"Because it's a Sunday," George tried again, "it's the day you're supposed to have a long lie in."

"Are you sure? Never heard of that," said Oliver shaking his head, "well, I'll just go and find Madam Hooch after I er… well… you know," he nodded towards the boys' toilets.

"He just doesn't get a hint does he?" said Angelina aloud once he had disappeared from sight.

"Right that's it," snapped George, "he can drag me out into the cold, make me do ridiculous exercise routines, and take up most of my nights with extra practice. But no one, and I mean no one, stops George's Sunday lie in. It's traditional for Godric's-sake."

Under the watchful gaze of the rest of the team, George stomped forward, took his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the keyhole of the boy's toilet door.

"Colloportus!" chanted George. There was an audible click as the door magically locked itself, "there. Let's see him go and find Madam Hooch now."


	14. First Win of the Year

"Merlin's Beard did you see him catch that Snitch? Did you?" asked Oliver as the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch team headed back up towards the school. "He didn't even need to use his hands. He caught it in his mouth. In his mouth! Did you see that?"

"Yes Oliver, we were all there," said Angelina rolling her eyes before shaking her head.

"Did you watch him fly though?" said Oliver moving his hand through the air as he demonstrated Harry's flying abilities.

"Yes Oliver, he flew very well," agreed Katie adopting the same monotone voice as Angelina had.

"Well? Well? He flew bloody brilliantly, we're going to win the cup this year for sure," said Oliver his eyes widening as he pictured holding the trophy aloft.

"That's what I like to see," said George slapping the Quidditch Captain on the back. "You're keeping a level head and not getting ahead of yourself in any way, shape or form."

"We have a Seeker now. A good Seeker. A great Seeker in fact. We'll be unstoppable," said Oliver sounding quite maniacal. He quickly looked around the group to administer more praise on the latest team member and frowned when he saw that he wasn't there. "Where is he anyway?"

"I think I saw him heading over to Hagrid's hut," said Fred gesturing in the rough direction of the gamekeeper's house.

"Yeah, I think he was a bit shaken up about what happened," nodded Alicia shaking her head and recalling the incident during the match with Slytherin where Harry's broom suddenly and unexpectantly seemed to try and buck him off. "I still can't believe he managed to stay on. I wonder what was up with it."

"Isn't it obvious?" said Oliver looking at the girl. She just shrugged in a way of response. "It was a hex."

"Don't be silly," snorted Katie shaking her head. "It's more likely he just lost control of it. He's only been flying for a few months after all."

"I'm telling you it was a hex," stated Oliver firmly rubbing his chin with a hand. "And I know exactly how to blame?"

There was a momentary silence.

"Well? Don't any of you want to know who is to blame?" asked Oliver after it became apparent that no one was going to say anything.

"Who?" sighed Alicia.

"Slytherin, that's who," said Oliver knowingly, as he tapped the side of his nose with a finger. "I would say it was probably Flint but he's a bit too stupid to manage that."

"Are there even spells that can do that?" asked Angelina.

"Oh there are spell all right, several in fact," nodded Oliver.

"Oh my God," said Angelina looking at the Quidditch captain. "You've looked them up haven't you?"

"I might have stumbled across the odd book on the subject," replied Oliver defensively.

"Really? Where?"

"In the restricted section," said Oliver. Angelina raised an eyebrow. "I was researching for my Defence Against the Dark Arts essay and I just happened to find a book which had a number of spells that could, given the right modification, be used to give someone an advantage in a game of Quidditch. I would never use them myself of course."

"Well that's good," said Angelina, happy that her faith had been restored in her captain.

"Mainly because I couldn't get them to work," muttered Oliver under his breath.

"Oliver!"

"What? I said I _couldn't_ get them to work," replied Oliver quickly.

"But you think somebody did?" asked George before Angelina could fire back a retort.

"Yeah, and I'd love to know how they did it. So I could stop them," Oliver added the last bit after he saw Angelina about to say something.

"Shouldn't we tell Madam Hooch about it?" asked Katie.

"We don't have any proof," Fred pointed out.

"What about Harry's broom? Everybody saw what happened," said Alicia.

"Yeah and everyone except for the completely demented would think that he lost control of the broom," said Angelina casting a sidelong look at Oliver.

"Exactly, so you see what we're up against," agreed Oliver. The group had now entered the school and were about to start heading up the staircase to the upper levels. "Wait, let's go this way."

"Why?" asked George, as the team duly followed their captain. He led them through a corridor into the trophy room, where a well known hidden passageway behind one of the portraits led up to the second floor. "This way is no quicker then using the stairs."

"I know but going this way means we get to look at _this_," Oliver stopped in front of a cabinet filled with cups, trophies and awards of all shapes and sizes. Right in the centre of the cabinet, in pride of place, was the school's Quidditch Cup. The Gryffindor captain pressed his hand longingly against the glass. "Isn't it beautiful?"

The rest of the team looked at each other as Oliver gazed at the trophy in wonder.

"Um… Oliver? We're probably going to just…" Angelina pointed towards the portrait with the hidden passageway.

"Sorry? What? Oh yes, of course. See you later," said Oliver distractedly without taking his eyes away from the cabinet.

"So, we're just going to leave him there?" asked Katie as the team made their way to the portrait. Alicia pushed against one side of the frame and it sprung forward to reveal a dimly lit stairwell.

"Probably be best, he looks like he might be a while," said Fred looking over his shoulder at Oliver. The team began filtering up the stairs. The portrait closed behind George.

"He's a bit…" Alicia tried to find the right words.

"Disturbed?" ventured George from the back of the group.

"I was going to say enthusiastic but disturbed would work just as well," shrugged Alicia. "You don't really think that someone hexed Harry's broom?"

"It is possible I suppose," conceded Angelina. "Everyone likes to win but hexing a broom would need dark magic and no one would do that just to win a game of Quidditch, well apart from Oliver maybe."

"It's times like this that I'm grateful he is on our side," said George.

"Yeah," agreed Fred. "At least he only tries to kill us using practice sessions."

The team made their way up to Gryffindor Tower and slipped into the Common room through the portrait of the Fat Lady. As she swung open they were greeted by a wave of noise from the celebrating students inside. Each team member was cheered as they stepped through the portal and there seemed to be a party in full flow in their honour.

"Alright Lee?" said George waving to his friend. Due to having a mouthful of pumpkin pie, courtesy of the House-Elves in the kitchen, Lee could only nod hello and had to furiously munch down his food before he could reply.

"Good game guys," said Lee eventually managing to swallow the food.

"Cheers," said Fred picking up a pie from the pile on the table. "One down two to go."

"Assuming we don't get hexed to death," concluded George looking at the platter of food available.

"What?" asked Lee. The twins quickly brought their friend up to speed with Oliver's theory that Harry's broom had been cursed. "That's ridiculous," he said shaking his head, suddenly he remembered something. "Although…"

"Although what?" asked Fred causing several lumps of pumpkin pie to be spat out as he spoke.

"Didn't Enoch say to watch out for anything unusual?" said Lee flicking his eyes between his two friends.

"Yeah but it was just a Quidditch game," shrugged George.

"Don't let Oliver hear you say that," advised Fred elbowing his brother, before looking at Lee. "He's right though."

"But it wasn't _just_ the Quidditch game though was it? There was the troll in the dungeon as well," said Lee reminding the two boys of the incident earlier in the year.

"I thought McGonagall said that it had just wandered in from the forest to keep warm."

"Well the teachers would say that wouldn't they George?" said Lee shaking his head at his friend's naivety. "Trolls are way too dumb to have found their way into the school without help, but they don't want to panic us by telling the truth."

"I don't know," said Fred rubbing his chin. "It's just a little far-fetched to think anyone would try and harm us with a troll, plus it was Harry's broom that was playing up not either of ours."

"Maybe they hexed the wrong broom by mistake," said Lee shrugging his shoulders.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to attack us directly?" said George.

"You mean right under the nose of Dumbledore? No one would be that stupid to try and attack a student while he is here," said Lee thoughtfully.

"Tell you what, I'll write to Enoch and tell him what has happened, and we'll see what he says about it," said Fred.

****

The reply from their uncle came back two weeks later, and caused much amusement from the occupants of the Great Hall that day. As the usual flurry of owls made their way into the hall a huge white pelican flapped into view, barging most of the other birds out of the way as it tried to land in front of the twins.

"Bloody hell," said George looking up at the creature as it landed awkwardly on the table. "What's it doing?"

"I'm not sure," said Fred leaning back on the bench to try and distance himself from the bird's oversized beak, which it had opened toward the pair. "I think it wants you to reach inside."

"I'm not sticking my hand in there," retorted George. "It'll probably bite it off or something."

"Well we're gonna have to do something, everybody's staring," said Fred looking around. He nodded uncomfortably at the nearest group of Ravenclaws.

"Fine," said George peering forward, the pelican leaned its head down and opened its mouth wider. "Keep still, will you?"

After a few hesitant tries George eventually fished out a letter from the pouch under the beak. As soon as it had been removed the creature, shook its head in relief at finally having delivered its package, let out a loud squawk and clumsily took to the air again.

"It smells of fish," said George wrinkling his nose.

"You don't think that could be the kippers you are having for breakfast," said Lee nodding towards the plate in front of the boy.

"Oh," George sniffed the envelope and then the plate of food. "No, I'd say it's about the same really."

"I don't want to compare it," complained Fred as his brother held the letter up to his nose. "Just open it will you?"

"Fine," sighed George as he carefully opened the envelope using the tips of his fingers. He scanned the first few words quickly. "Oh, it's from Enoch."

"Typical, we should have been able to guess that from the pelican," said Fred, using the end of his wand to push the now discarded envelope further away from him on the table. "What's it say?"

"Well first he apologises for sending the pelican," said George reading from the letter. "Apparently owls are hard to come by where he is."

"Which is?" asked Lee, subtly using his own wand to push the envelope back towards Fred.

"He doesn't say," said George skimming the letter for any clues. "Just in case it gets intercepted he doesn't want to run the risk of revealing his location."

"He's a bit paranoid isn't he?" said Fred casually flicking the envelope closer to Lee.

"With good reason," said George reading on. "From the sound of it over the last few weeks he's pretty much been under attack from someone constantly. At the moment he is holed up with an old friend on an extremely well protected island, so he thinks he is safe but he is worried that the attacker might make good on his threat and come after us."

"What did we ever do?" complained Fred watching as the envelope wafted back in his direction due to a spell from Lee.

"Do you actually want me come up with a list?" asked Lee as the envelope was gradually nudged back towards him. "Because I really don't think I'd have the time for that."

"I just think he is being a bit overprotective," shrugged Fred. The envelope was now being subjected to a two different spells from the boys each trying to force it to in the opposite direction.

"Just a bit," said George reading the rest of the letter. "Look at this, Enoch thinks the safest place for us is to remain at school rather than head home for Christmas so he's managed to convince Charlie to invite mum and dad over for the holidays. It means we're going to be stuck at school."

"Here?" asked Fred not looking away from the envelope. Both he and Lee had given up trying to be subtle and were now openly trying to force it to do their bidding. "Over the holidays? With nothing to do?"

"Well I suppose there is Hogsmeade," said George now watching the ongoing battle over the envelope, which seemed to have drawn the attention of plenty of other students.

"And the school is always a laugh to explore," said Fred concentrating hard.

"Plus there is the forbidden forest," added Lee frowning as the envelope twisted in the air.

"Actually staying around here might not be too bad," conceded George thoughtfully. He frowned as he looked up at the floating piece of paper. Under the effects of the spells it had started to spout thin wisps of smoke. "Er… guys? Maybe you should stop that now."

"What and let him win?" said Lee sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on the task at hand.

"Oi you two," called Filch stomping down the isle between the House tables. "What do you think you are playing at? Don't you know the rules about magic outside of class?"

"That it is approved and actively encouraged?" ventured Fred.

"What? No, don't be so stupid. It's against the rules," snapped Filch wagging a finger at him. "Stop it this instance and come with me."

"I'll stop it after he stops it," said Fred nodding towards his friend.

"You stop first," countered Lee.

"How about you both stop at the same time?" said George offering a compromise.

"Sounds good," said Fred as Lee also indicated his approval with a slight shrug. "On the count of three? One. Two. Three… you didn't stop."

"Neither did you."

"Well I wouldn't have to if you did," explained Fred which no doubt made perfect sense to him if not anyone else.

"That's enough," snapped Filch reaching out to grab the envelope from the air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," advised George.

"Oh wouldn't you?" sneered Filch sarcastically. "I'm the adult, you're the child._ I_ tell _you_ what to do, not the other way around."

The caretaker snatched the envelope out of the air and looked at George triumphantly. His victory was short lived however as the paper suddenly exploded in a burst of flame leaving Filch with a soot smudge face and singed eyebrows. He looked at George with a furious expression.

"I know, I know," sighed George standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Your office. Now."


	15. Perfect Prefect Plan

"I can't see why we have to do this," complained Fred scooping up a shovel full of snow off one of the pathways and wandering over to the large pile before dumping it on top.

"Really? You don't?" asked Lee watching the twins undergoing their punishment. "It's because you bewitched those snowballs to follow Professor Quirriel and continually hit him on the back of the head."

"Well, I know _why_ we are being punished," said Fred heading back towards the path. "I just want to know why Filch couldn't have come up with something inside where it is warm."

"As far as I can make out," said George throwing his shovelful of snow onto the pile. "The paths need to be cleared either way and by getting us to do it Filch doesn't have to come out into the cold."

George stopped and dug the end of the shovel into the ground before resting his arm on it and pausing to catch his breath.

"Oi! No stopping! Get back to work," shouted the voice of Filch. The twins and Lee looked up to see the caretaker leaning out of one of the upstairs windows.

"How come he gets to be in the warm?" asked George glumly as he scraped his shovel across the ground again.

"Probably because he isn't in detention," said Lee wrapping his arms around himself.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" said Fred throwing more snow on the increasing mount.

"Oh I wanted to know if I could borrow one of your essays on the Invisible Creeping Cacti to read. I swear if I forget to do another homework parchment for Sprout she'll put me in detention, and I don't particularly want to have to spend an afternoon helping to pot plants," advised Lee as his breath fogged in the air.

"I've haven't done mine yet, I was going to copy off Fred," said George nodding towards his brother.

"Off me? I was going to copy off you," complained Fred.

"I guess that means we'll both be copying off you then," said George looking at Lee.

"I haven't done it, remember? That's what I was doing out here in the first place," said Lee tapping the side of his head with a gloved finger.

"Honestly Lee, you really should put in some forward planning," tutted Fred shaking his head.

"I can't believe you haven't done your homework, who are we supposed to copy it off now?" asked George looking disappointedly at his friend.

"You haven't done it either," snorted Lee letting out a small cloud of warm breath.

"Yes, but obviously we were going to end up in detention, and wouldn't be able to get it done in time," said George.

"So we were counting on copying it off you," added Fred.

"Hang on," said Lee pointing at Fred. "You just said that you were planning on copying it off George not me."

"I was looking at George but I was talking to you," replied Fred quickly.

"You really are a special kind of idiot aren't you?" said Lee shaking his head.

"It's the best kind to be," smiled Fred throwing another spade of snow onto the pile.

"Well since none of us have done the essay that really only leaves us with one option," said George thoughtfully.

"Stay up late tonight and work on it together?" asked Lee doubtfully.

"I like you Lee, you make me laugh," said George grinning. "Nope, we're going to have to copy off someone else."

"Angelina? I don't think she is going to help us out, not after last time," said Fred rubbing the end of his running nose with the back of a glove.

"It's not our fault she got in trouble," said George shaking his head.

"You copied their homework word for word," Lee interjected. "Then you handed yours in first and _she _was put in detention for copy yours."

"Do you think she'll still hold a grudge about that?" asked George sounding hopeful.

"Oh no, I doubt that," said Lee sarcastically. "In fact why don't you go and ask her when you are done here? Just make sure you tell me first because I'm going to want a front row seat for that."

"Maybe not," said George picturing the likely outcome if he approached Angelina for her homework, the image involved his head, a toilet bowl and the rather unpleasant meeting of the two.

"I've got it," exclaimed Fred surprising George who had been in mid-swing with his spade, which promptly slipped from his hands and flew a good ten feet away in the snow. Fred looked at him. "I'm not sure that's the best way to clear the path."

"Stupid shovel," complained George stomping across the thick snow that covered the ground. "What have you got anyway?"

"The perfect person to copy from," beamed Fred. "I can't believe we didn't think of it before, he's brilliant and always gets high marks in all his work."

"Right we at least we know he isn't talking about either of us," conceded Lee.

"So? Who is it?"

"Percy," said Fred smiling a wide grin.

"Do you want to take this one or shall I?" asked George looking over towards Lee.

"I'll let you handle this, I'm still a bit tired," informed Lee.

"Fred, asking Percy is a superb plan," said George as his brother acknowledged the approval. "However there are just a few slight snags that prevent it from being a perfect plan."

"Such as?"

"Well off the top of my head," said George pretending to look serious. "One; Percy isn't in our year, so he's not being set the same homework as us. Two; even if he _was_ being set the same homework, again he is two years above us and would therefore be using magical explanations way above what we are learning. And three; and I think this is the most important part, Percy would rather let us test out our Transfiguration spells on him every day for the rest of his life than let us copy his homework. Oh and four; you're an idiot."

"A special kind of idiot," Lee reminded his friend.

"Yes, a special kind of idiot."

"You say that like it is a bad thing," said Fred frowning. "I'll answer each of your problems in order. One; I'm aware that Percy isn't in our year, if he was it would mean we were triplets and quite frankly I can't think of anything as scary as that idea. Two; he was set the same homework two years ago so he would be using explanations that we are supposed to know. And three; I never actually planned on asking his permission to copy his homework."

"Are you planning on trying to time travel back two years just so we can copy Percy's homework?" asked Lee looking at the boy in disbelief. "Because I can think of at least one more problem with that."

"No I don't plan of time travelling, although it would be a good idea, we should probably look into that," said Fred tapping a finger against his chin. "No I just plan on sneaking into his room and stealing it."

"Erm… I still think you have missed a major problem," said Lee trying not to sound too condescending. "It's with the whole, Percy not being given the same homework as us."

"Yes but as I said he would have been given it two years ago, and dear Percy isn't the type to throw out his work," said Fred smiling, neither his brother nor his friend seemed change their expressions of confusion so he decided to put it in simpler terms. "He keeps all his old homework."

"You can't be serious," said Lee shaking his head. He looked over at George. "Can he?"

"You could be on to something there," said George thoughtfully, attempting to click his gloved fingers. "Remember when he returned home after his first year, he brought all of his essays back and stored them in his wardrobe."

"Exactly, and mum told him he couldn't bring any more home because we didn't have enough room. That and we set fire to the ones he had already brought back. Accidentally of course," added Fred after a look from Lee.

"So, you think he **has **them here? Stored in his room?" said Lee.

"I would bet my reputation on it," stated Fred firmly.

"You don't have a reputation," Lee pointed out.

"I hope to get one from this," replied Fred without skipping a beat.

"Oi!" shouted the voice of Filch, the three boys turned to see him scampering out of the school and heading their way.

"Doesn't he ever take a break?" muttered Fred shaking his head.

"What is your punishment?" demanded the caretaker as he reached the boys.

"To clear the path by hand," ventured George.

"Exactly, to clear the path, not to spend all your time chatting to your friend," said Filch. He jabbed a finger towards Fred. "You. Go to the other end of the path and make a start there. You continue from here. And you," he pointed at Lee so viciously the boy had to take a step back to avoid being poked in the eye. "Bugger off."

"Charming," mumbled Lee under his breath.

"See you later," said Fred as their friend retreated to the warmth of the castle.

"Not if you don't get this cleared you won't," sneered Filch. He shivered slightly before realising in his haste to reprimand the twins he had forgotten to wrap a warm coat around himself. "I'll be back in half an hour to check on your progress."

It was closer to twenty minutes in the end when the caretaker returned. By arriving early he had no doubt wanted to catch the boys lazing about when they should have been working. Needless to say he was sorely disappointed to find not only that both boys were busy but that they had almost completely the task.

"You've managed to clear all that in the time it's taken me to have a sandwich?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Of course Mr Filch," said Fred looking up from his work.

"We just took a leaf out of your book and got on with it," added George moving another load of snow.

"You did?" asked Filch looking between the two boys warily.

"Of course," said Fred trying to look at the caretaker with false admiration. "I mean, you're just one man but you manage to keep something the size of Hogwarts cleaned to perfection."

"Well, it's not just all me… you know… House Elves," stammered Filch trying to be modest.

"House-Elves? Nonsense," said George shaking his head. "Sure they do little bits here and there, but who does all the real work? Eh? Who?"

"Me?" asked Filch a little bit uncertain.

"Exactly," nodded George. "Just you, with a single broom and no thanks. Every day you are sweeping those halls and I don't want to speak ill of my fellow students but they are an ungrateful lot aren't they?"

"Ungrateful? Damn right they're ungrateful," snapped Filch angrily. "In the week before term started I had this place gleaming, and then the moment _they_ arrived I have to spend my days trailing after muddy footprints all over my beautiful clean floors."

"Tsk, that is awful, did you hear that Fred?"

"I heard George," said Fred shaking his head miserably. "This place would fall down without you Mr Filch. Sure, Dumbledore gets all glory whenever Hogwarts is mentioned but would he be able to do his job if it wasn't for you making sure the school was running like clockwork? Of course not."

"You can't spell Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft without Filch," said George, and then thought about this for a few seconds before correcting himself. "Well you can, but it would be spelt Ogwarts Shoo of Wzardry and Witchcrat, and who would want to go to a school like that? Not me that's for sure."

"Nor me, or anyone else with half a brain," agreed Fred. "Which is why we've started a campaign."

"We have? I mean, yes we have," said George quickly recovering.

"What sort of campaign?" asked Filch looking suspiciously between the two boys.

"To get your own chapter in Hogwarts; A History of course," said Fred looking at Filch as though the answer should have been obvious."

"My own chapter?" said Filch getting a far away look in his eyes.

"At the very least," said George taking the cue from his brother. "We've already started a petition amongst the rest of the school. Got a good few signatures too, we were going to write off to Chroniculus Punnet and get him to add your chapter into the latest edition but, well what with one thing and another we just haven't had the time."

"Oh you haven't?" said Filch looking a little disappointed.

"No," sighed Fred looking rather devastated. "We were going to do it this morning but well we had to do this."

"Well you're nearly done," said Filch hopefully as he looked at the remainder of the path that needed clearing.

"Yes but then it'll be lunch time, and we have Quidditch practice after that, plus we have a whole bunch of homework to finish before the weekend is over. I just don't think we'll get around to it, this morning was really the only time we had free. It'll disappoint so many people too," said George really laying the false sincerity on as thickly as he could.

"Oh," said Filch thoughtfully. An idea suddenly occurred to him. "Maybe you could get someone to help finish…"

"Good thinking Mr Filch," stated George quickly, he held his shovel out in front of the caretaker who took it from his hands almost automatically. "I knew we could count on you to see the importance of our cause."

"Honestly Mr Filch, every day when I come across a problem I just think to myself 'what would Mr Filch do?' And once I do that, the answer always becomes clear," said Fred jabbing his spade into the ground and heading passed the caretaker as the two boys started making their way back to the school.

"I didn't mean…" Filch started to say but was quickly interrupted by George.

"Well it has to be you doesn't it?"

"Of course it does," added Fred enthusiastically. "Who else would clear this path to the high standards that this school deserves? Only you Mr Filch with you keen sense of hard work."

"Dedication," said George nodding.

"Attention to detail," agreed Fred as the caretaker puffed his chest out. "No one else would take such pride in a job well done."

"We're counting on you Mr Filch, make us proud," said George firing off a snappy salute, causing the man to stiffen to attention with the shovel held over his shoulder like a rifle.

"My own chapter," muttered Filch happily to himself as he started to move the snow off the path. He paused for a moment looking at the shovelful of white powder. He looked back up towards the school where the two boys were disappearing through the doors. He looked back to the snow. A multitude of neurons began firing inside Filch's brain as realisation of what just happened dawned on him. The barrage of swearwords that exploded from his mouth could be heard all the way to Hagrid's hut.

"I think Filch has just cottoned on," said Fred as the two boys suddenly started to walk quicker up the stairs just in case the caretaker came chasing after them, they didn't slow down until they were in the relative safety of the Gryffindor common room.

"Are you guys done already?" asked Lee looking up from a table. He had a couple of books spread out over them and had his quill poised over a parchment.

"Filch is finishing up for us," said George causing his friend to frown in confusion. "We'll tell you later. What are you doing?"

"Starting my Herbology homework," replied Lee pointing at the book.

"I thought we had decided on checking if Percy had kept his old essays," said George flicking Lee's book shut.

"You were serious about that?"

"Yeah why wouldn't we be?" said Fred. "All we need it a way to distract Percy for a few minutes while we search his room."

"Like that is going to happen," said Lee shaking his head. "The moment either of you try to distract him, he'll know something is up."

"That is true," said George thoughtfully. His sentence trailed off as he saw his older brother coming down the stairs from the dormitories. "You off out Percy?"

"Not that it is any of your business but no," said the prefect crossing over the room to the Gryffindor bulletin board. He pinned a small piece of parchment to it. "Just updating the passwords for the Fat Lady for the next few weeks."

"We were actually just talking about you," advised Fred thinking quickly.

"You were?" replied Percy looking between his two brothers suspiciously. "I don't have any money for you to borrow."

"We're not after money," laughed George failing to lower his brother's state of alertness. "It's just Lee here thinks he could have a good shot at being the Gryffindor prefect in a couple of years, now obviously neither Fred or I would know anything about what it would take to become one but you certainly would."

"You would?" asked Percy transferring his suspicious gaze to the twins' friend.

"Oh yeah," nodded Lee quickly after getting a sly kick in the shin from George. "My dad was a prefect as was my granddad, so it's a big deal for them that I'm one as well. Do you have any tips that would help me get picked? I mean, what did you do for instance?"

"Well there's no one thing that you need to do, it's more to do with your general attitude. Now, there are _some_ people, who are completely unsuited to the responsibilities of being a prefect," at this point Percy looked pointedly at his two brothers. "And by associating yourself with them you have probably made it difficult to be in consideration for the title, but I'm sure with a few adjustments you'll be back on track."

"This sounds like it could take a while," said Fred heading towards the stairs. "We'll just leave you to it."

"That'll probably be for the best," said Percy not looking up. He reached for a spare piece of parchment and took the quill off Lee. "We'll need to write all this down; they'll be a lot to remember."

"Really? That's great," said Lee looking over Percy's shoulder to flash an expression of annoyance at the twins. They just gave him a friendly wave and headed up the stairs.

"Was that too mean to Lee?" said Fred as the two boys quickly headed up the stairs.

"He's taking one for the team," concluded George following closely behind his brother.

They made their way up to Percy's dormitory and headed inside. It had changed little over the last couple of years since the twins had snuck inside to brew a potion in secret in their first year. There was only one occupant in the room and Fred was about to launch into a quickly formulated excuse for their presence but then realised he recognised the individual.

"Oliver?" Fred said uncertainly looking at what seemed to be a bundle of bedding.

"Urrgh," groaned the mound on the bed. It slowly rolled onto one side and the face of the Gryffindor captain could be seen poking out of the top of the bunched duvet, his nose and eyes were bright red and his skin was pale and pasty looking.

"Merlin's Beard you look awful," muttered Fred unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

"I'm fine," mumbled Oliver before letting out a hacking cough.

"Oh yeah, you sound just peachy," replied George looking around the room. "Which bed is Percy's?"

"That one over there," came the muted response. Oliver jutted a foot out of the bottom of the bed and used it to point in the direction of their older brother's bed.

"Cheers," said George heading towards it.

"So what's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?" asked Fred as his brother began rummaging through Percy's possessions.

"I'm fine, nothing wrong with me at all, just picked up a little cold from the weather," explained Oliver from his warm cocoon. "Madam Pompfrey says there is nothing she can do. Honestly, she can grow bones back but can't cure a simple cold; it's ridiculous I tell you."

"I take it that this afternoon's practice is cancelled?" said Fred as George began pulling out the drawers next to Percy's bed.

Although each student was only allocated one set of drawers and a wardrobe to stow their belongings, the furniture had been enchanted to allow far more items to be placed inside them than the outward appearance would suggest. George found himself leaning halfway into one of the drawers so that only the bottom half of his body was visible.

"Aha!" he exclaimed his voice echoing from inside the wooden furniture. He pulled himself out and held aloft an armful of paper all neatly held in place with string wrapped around it. George looked down at it and read from the first page. "Damn, second year stuff," he disappeared back into the drawer.

"Why would practice be cancelled?" demanded Oliver, struggling to sit up. "Has Slytherin tried to steal our timeslot again, I booked the pitch weeks ago."

"Calm down, no they haven't," said Fred folding his arms across his chest. "I just meant you aren't exactly in the best shape to be holding a practice."

"What do you mean? I told you, I'm fine," Oliver devolved into a fit of coughs that prevented him from elaborating further.

"Look at your eyes, they're streaming, you won't be able to see a thing out there, and it's cold, unless you are planning on taking your duvet up on the broom with you of course," Fred pointed out.

"Ha, got them," said George holding up the pile of paper which too both hands to manage.

"But we need to practice," complained Oliver letting out a huge sneeze that reverberated around the room.

"I'll tell you what Oliver," said Fred taking half of the pages from his brother who had struggled across the room with them. "You rest up and the rest of us will have practice as normal."

"You will?"

"Of course we will Oliver," said George smiling kindly. "We all take Quidditch as seriously as you do. Don't you worry about it."

"Thanks guys," sighed Oliver collapsing back down into the bed.

"We aren't really still going to have practice are we? It's freezing," said Fred in the corridor outside of the dormitory.

"Don't be silly, I don't know about you but I'll be staying in with a nice warm cup of tea. I doubt the rest of the team will complain much either," said George.

"What on earth is all of this?" asked Fred lifting up the parchments in his hand. "I thought we were just trying to find one essay."

"There was too much to go through in there," said George balancing the pages awkwardly in his hand. "But these were all from his third year; one of them is bound to be on Invisible Creeping Cacti."

"Hey this one is about the Giant Treaties," said Fred looking down at the top page of his pile. "Binns set that as homework last week, and check it out; Percy got two hundred and twelve percent."

"You know what? I don't think we'll get a low mark again," said George grinning.


	16. Merry Christmas Mr Filch

Filch opened his eyes as his alarm clock wailed into life, usually such a noise would been an unwelcome interruption to his delightful dreams of punishments for students but today however was a special day indeed. It was the last day before the Christmas holidays officially started, which meant he got to watch as the majority of the children disappear off down to Hogsmeade station carried away by the horseless carriages. In the caretaker's opinion the only day in the entire scholastic calendar that was better was the final day of year when once again he would be given back a student free school.

"Good morning Mrs Norris," he said to his pet cheerily. He flicked the sheets back on his bed, swung his legs across and practically leaped out onto the ground. There were a few moments of uncertain dancing from the caretaker as he once again forgot that the cold winter months in conjunction with the stone floor made for a very unpleasantly freezing feeling against his feet.

Eventually he managed to locate his slippers and began his daily ritual of washing and shaving, although this time he was happily humming a tune to himself as he did. He dabbed his face dry with a towel that had once been white but had since discoloured to a murky yellow after years of neglect and gazed at himself in the mirror. There were a few errant strands of hair poking out of the top of his head which he tried to force down with his hand, after a few unsuccessful attempts he spat into his palm and used the moisture to wet them down so that they stuck to the rest of his lank dishevelled mane.

Once his was suitably dressed he strode out of his room and into the corridors of the school. As he made his way through the various hallways and passages, he found that he was still humming the little happy tune to himself as he went.

He wandered into the main entrance hall of the school and smiled to himself as he watch student after student filtering out of the door to board a carriage. He felt as if he could spend all day just watching them go.

"Alright Mr Filch?" asked George as he, Fred and Lee made their way down the stairs each one carrying a bag over their shoulders.

"Don't say anything," said Filch holding his hand out to stop them from speaking before waving them away. "You'll ruin the moment, just keep moving."

"I'm not sure if I've ever seen Filch in such a good mood," said Lee as the three boys made their way out to the front of the school. Outside people were already queuing to get on the horseless carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade station and the Hogwarts' Express. "It's a little unnerving."

"Everything about Filch is a little unnerving," corrected Fred handing Lee the bag that had been slung over his shoulder before massaging his arm with his hand. "Here you go."

"Cheers, thanks for helping me down with these," said Lee taking the other bag from George as well.

"No problem, we weren't going to just standby and watch you struggle with these all the way down here," said George waving a hand at the bags now weighing down his friend.

"Er… except that you did, for a little bit anyway," Lee reminded him.

"Well it was funny at first, watching you try and balance yourself with all three while trying to get down the stairs, but after a while it just started being a bit sad," said Fred shrugging his shoulders or at least trying to with the bags weighing them down.

"Alright guys?" said Alicia as she and Angelina joined the group. She looked at Lee attempting to carry his three large bags. "You're only going home for a couple of weeks, why are you taking so much stuff?"

"Because, I'm being smart," said Lee eventually managing to find his balance. "These bags are filled with the things that I won't need after the holidays. So if I bring them home now then I won't need to struggle bringing them down at the end of the year."

"But you wouldn't struggle bringing them down at the end of the year anyway," said Angelina frowning as she looked at the boy. "The House-Elves always put our stuff on the train, remember? We just leave them in our room."

"Oh yeah," muttered Lee looking a little taken aback. He gazed at his bags forlornly before looking up at the twins. "I don't suppose…"

"No chance, we helped you down with them, we're not going back up as well," said George quickly as he shook his head.

"Besides, we're going to head into Hogsmeade for a few hours," said Fred nodding the direction of the village.

"Are you allowed?" asked Alicia.

"Well we assumed we are since we're third years and technically we are on holiday," said George.

"Yes but did someone say you could actually go?" reiterated the girl.

"Oh we didn't ask anyone if we could go or not," said Fred frowning.

"Yeah, they might have said no," agreed George.

"And that would have stopped you would it?" asked Lee.

"No, but it would have meant we would have had to sneak out, this way we get to enjoy the fresh air and a nice walk as opposed to crawling through a tunnel for the best part of an hour," explained Fred.

"I'm amazed that you two haven't been expelled yet," said Angelina shaking her head. One of the numerous horseless carriages pulled up in front of them. Lee grudgingly pushed his bags inside before stepping up into it.

"They would never do that," said Fred shaking his head. "This place would be boring without us."

"Or at the very least, quieter and less likely to explode," conceded Alicia following Lee up into the carriage. Angelina climbed up after her. The three of them poked their heads out.

"See you after the holidays," said Angelina.

"Have a good Christmas," bade Alicia.

"Don't set fire to my bed," added Lee as the carriage pulled away by itself.

"See you too. Have a good Christmas as well. And I can't promise anything about your bed," said Fred and George, waving their friends off, before heading towards the path down to the village.

The snow had left a thick blanket of soft white unspoiled canvas that the twins promptly destroyed as they stomped their way down to Hogsmeade. The village had entered into the full swing of festive spirit and not single a house or business was bereft of decorations. Lights, candles, Christmas trees and tinsel could be seen in every window along the way. As they approached the main street they could hear carols being sung with hearty gusto by miniature figurine singers attached to the side of each of the builders.

The boys headed straight for their usual first stop in the village; Zonko's toyshop, where they replenished their stocks of dungbombs, stinkpellets, and other various items that could be found on Filch's list of items banned from the school grounds. After that a quick stop over at Honeyduke's sweetshop enabled them to pick up a few snack items that couldn't be found in the kitchens at Hogwarts.

Eventually they headed to the warmth and comfort of the Three Broomsticks. The heat from the well stocked fire of the pub was enough to make the two boys instantly start removing their bulky coats, hats and gloves as they stepped through the door.

The pub was relatively quiet without the usual hustle and bustle of the Hogwarts' students and the two boys quickly scanned the room for a suitable place to sit. Fred nudged his brother with his elbow and nodded towards the bar where a familiar face was being served by Madam Rosmerta.

"I haven't seen you in here for a long time Mr Filch," said the barmaid pouring out a glass of Fire Whiskey for the caretaker. "Not since the summer in fact."

"I normally drink up at the Hog's Head during term time," advised Filch taking a sip of the golden liquid and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"How come?"

"Can you hear that?" asked Filch raising a hand to his ear theatrically.

"Hear what?"

"Exactly. Silence. No snot-nosed kids running around like they own the place," said Filch smiling to himself. "And even better than that, _they_ have gone home for the holidays."

"Who's 'they'?" asked Madam Rosmerta.

"The red headed doppelganger devils," whispered Filch leaning close to the woman. His face screwed up in disgust. "Those Weasley troublemakers."

"Er… Mr Filch?" said the barmaid flicking her eyes across to where the twins were standing. Fred gave her a wave.

"Two weeks, two whole weeks without those permanent thorns in my side," said Filch gleefully.

"Mr Filch?" said Rosmerta again.

"I'll be free to head into a room without first having to check that they haven't stuck something above the door, poised to drop down onto me as I enter," Filch sighed as he took another sip from his glass. "I haven't been this relaxed in months."

"Argus?" said the barmaid, this time sounding much firmer.

"What?" asked Filch looking slightly annoyed as he took a large gulp of his drink. Madam Rosmerta nodded towards the boys. The caretaker turned to look where she was pointing. There was a sudden spray of liquid erupting from his mouth like a fountain. He waved a finger at the twins. "You!"

"Hiya Mr Filch," said George beaming a wide smile at the caretaker. He turned to look at the barmaid. "Two Butterbeers if you don't mind Madam Rosmerta."

"W-w-what are you…? You can't be…? Why aren't you…?" stammered Filch unable to get any of his questions out of his mouth. Eventually he managed to compose himself enough to say one complete sentence. "But you're supposed to be on the train."

"No we aren't," said Fred frowning. Madam Rosmerta placed two glasses of warm Butterbeer onto the bar. "Thanks."

"Yes you are," state Filch firmly. "I saw you, you had your bags."

"Oh those?" said George taking a large gulp of his drink. "Those were Lee's bags, we were just helping him."

"So you aren't heading home for the holidays?" asked Filch in an extremely pathetic voice. "You're staying at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah our parents are visiting our brother," said Fred mistakenly thinking that the caretaker was trying to engage them in conversation. "So we're stuck here for the holidays."

"Here Mr Filch, I think you could do with another one of these. On the house," said Madam Rosmerta pouring out another glass of Fire Whiskey. Without changing his expression, Filch reached a hand out, grasped the glass and drained it all in one go. He looked across at the woman forlornly.

"I thought I had two weeks away from them," he muttered to her. Almost in a daze he stepped away from the bar and headed towards the door of the pub. A chilly blast of air whipped through the room as he left and made his way out in the cold.

"Well I for one am always glad to see you," said Madam Rosmerta giving the boys a wink before going to serve a customer further down the bar.

"He's slipping," said George shaking his head.

"He's getting old," agreed Fred drinking from his glass. "How far do you think he'll get before he realises that we are out of school grounds?"

"I'd say definitely within the next three seconds," said George looking out of the window to where the caretaker had suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Filch burst back through the door of the Three Broomsticks with a malevolent and slightly demented look in his eye. He jabbed a finger towards the two boys.

"Out of bounds!" he exclaimed advancing on them. Fred and George tried to consume as much of their Butterbeers as they could before the caretaker grabbed their collars roughly and propelled them through the door.

"Don't worry, I'll put those on your tab," Madam Rosmerta called after them as she went to collected the unpaid glasses of Butterbeer discarded on the bar top.

"I've got you this time," snarled Filch pushing Fred along in front of him. The boy stumbled slightly as he tried to regain his footing. "Not just out of bounds, but sneaking into Hogsmeade as well."

"We didn't sneak into Hogsmeade," countered George as both he and Fred tried to keep ahead of the man.

"I just caught you. Even in the face of facts you are going to lie," snapped Filch angrily.

"We didn't sneak anywhere," explained Fred. "We just walked into the village normally. There are no rules against that."

"Of course there are rules against that!" shouted Filch as he threw his hands in the air. "If there weren't any rules against it, you lot could just wander into the village whenever you feel like it."

"We do wander into the village whenever we feel like it," George pointed out. "Therefore there can't be any rules against it."

"What?" said Filch suddenly taken aback by the boy's logic. "No, it doesn't work like that. You don't get to decide on the rules."

"But you said so yourself, if there weren't any rules against it, we could just wander into the village any time. Since we do that then there can't be any rules against it," said Fred turning and walking backwards as he explained the concept to the caretaker. "It's pretty simple really."

"No," retorted Filch waving a finger at the two boys. "You aren't going to weasel your way out of it this time. I've caught you, out of bounds, and I'm going to make sure that you two are punished harshly for this. I've been telling Dumbledore since you two first turned up that you needed to be expelled and this time he'll have no choice. Flouting the rules, you have no respect for authority. And what's in those bags you are carrying? Are those from Zonko's? Give them here."

Filch peered into the contents of the paper bags each of the boys had been carrying. His face broke into a wide smile.

"Dungbombs? Stinkpellets? They're on the banned list. Oh my you're going to be expelled for sure now, trying to bring illegal contraband onto school premises," said the caretaker practically giddy with excitement. He looked up to see a lone figure approaching around the bend in the road. His smile managed to increase a few notches once he realised it was Dumbledore. "I don't even have to wait to see you expelled. Headmaster."

"Ah Argus how are you doing on his fine day? Mr Weasleys," said the headmaster nodded at the two boys.

"I caught them sir," Filch said triumphantly.

"Caught who?" asked Dumbledore looking around.

"These two miscreants," said Filch waving a hand towards the twins.

"Caught them doing what exactly?"

"Being out of bounds of course," stated Filch.

"Argus, while I do appreciate you diligently enforcing the numerous and exhaustive list of school rules that have built up over the years, I do feel that since it is officially the Christmas holidays and the fact that as third years these two young men are allowed into Hogsmeade on occasion anyway, we can certainly overlook their indiscretion this one instance," said Dumbledore smiling slightly. "Now, unless you are busy Argus, how about you join me for a glass of Fire Whiskey or two down at Rosmerta's?"

"B-but…" stammered Filch for a few seconds before he realised he was still holding the paper bags from Zonko's, he rallied superbly and held them open for Dumbledore to see. "What about these?"

"Oh really Argus, you shouldn't have," said Dumbledore looking inside the bags.

"I didn't get them for you," explained Filch. He pointed an accusing finger at the twins. "They bought them."

"While it is very generous of you two, I don't think I can accept presents from my students," said Dumbledore looking at the boys kindly. "There could be a suggestion of favouritism and I try to avoid that as best as I can. However I do appreciate the gesture."

"That's quite all right sir," said George. He held his hand out to take the bags from Filch. "I'm sure we'll be able to find someone that would want them."

"These are banned at the school," said Filch still holding onto the items.

"That is true Argus," nodded Dumbledore. "And I'm sure neither of these fine young gentlemen were planning on bringing them onto school grounds. Were you?"

"Oh no sir," said Fred looking affronted at such a suggestion. "We would never bring something to the school that was on the banned list."

"Very good," smiled Dumbledore turning to look at the caretaker. "I think that should be enough to waylay any reservations you may have."

"Right," said Filch tersely. Reluctantly he held the bags out for George to take.

"Excellent, now that has been resolved, how about that drink Argus?" said Dumbledore rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"I could do with a drink," sighed Filch shaking his head. "Or twelve."

"Very good," said Dumbledore resting a hand on the caretaker's shoulder and guiding him towards the village. He looked over his shoulder as he left. "Gentlemen."

"Bye sir," said George giving the headmaster a wave.

"We aren't really going to not bring them into the school," said Fred.

"Of course not," said George once he had mentally worked his way through his brother's statement. "Although I think we will probably have to come back here tomorrow to get some more."

"How come?"

"Because we have two bags full of the likes of dungbombs and stinkpellets, and Filch's office will be unguarded for the next while."

"You truly are an evil man George, and I like it," said Fred smiling.

"'Tis the season Fred, tis the season."

* * *

_Psst hey you. Yeah you, the reader person, I'm talking to you. It's me Phantomduck. You know; the guy that wrote this story. Now, I know that according to the terms and conditions thingy, that they make you agree to before you can post stories on here, I'm not supposed to be putting this message here, but I'm not going to tell them if you won't. Any hoo, sorry I haven't been updating this story for a while it's down to various reasons, one of which is that I've been trying my hand at coming up with original stories of my own. I've posted one up and I would like your opinions on it. It's got action, adventure, magic and talking mice, what more do you need? The link is in my profile page. I'll see you on the other side. Shh. Keep this message under your hat. What do you mean you don't have a hat? Go borrow a hat, put it on, and then keep this under it. Now scram and actual natural._


	17. Christmas at Hogwarts

Chapter 17

"Merry Christmas!" bellowed George, as he lifted his pillow over his head and brought it down onto Fred's face. "Where's my present?"

"Oi watch it," said Fred, throwing his arms across him to protect against the blows.

"Give me my present," said George, not showing any signs of ceasing his attacks.

"Okay, okay, okay," Fred shouted, until his brother stopped tormenting him. He leaned out of the bed and fished his hand underneath until he pulled out a poorly wrapped box. He held it up to his brother.

"Thanks. Yours is there," said George, nodding towards Fred's bedside table where an equally poorly wrapped box was balanced.

"Nice one," said Fred. The two boys sat down on their respective beds. They ripped open their presents in a blur of fingers and wrapping. Fred discarded the paper and held up a bag of what looked like small false teeth. "Chattering Teeth. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess?" said George who had unwrapped his present from George and was now also the proud owner of his own bag of Chattering Teeth. He opened the top of the bag, pulled one out and held it up to his mouth. "Hello there."

"Hello there," replied the teeth mimicking George's voice but in a slightly higher pitch.

"Brilliant," said George throwing the teeth down onto the floor where it began slowly moving around the room all the while repeating the phrase over and over.

Fred took out a set of teeth from his own bag and placed it on the floor next to George's.

"Hello there," said George's teeth.

"Hello there," repeated Fred's set.

"Hello there."

"Hello there."

"That is going to get very annoying, very quickly," said Fred, looking down at the teeth.

"I know," said George, nodding his head. "Shall we put some of them in Percy's room?"

"What else would we do with them?" said Fred, shrugging his shoulders. There was a small pile of presents at the end of his bed, he put the bag of teeth to one side and started tearing into the gifts.

Once the flurry of present opening was over the twins were left with a set each of dried Mummy-Eye marbles, (sent by their brother Bill), a Dragon-Tooth necklace (from Charlie), Chocolate Frogs (Ginny), a book on wizard etiquette (Percy, of course), a Muggle watch (Mr Weasley) and home-made biscuits (Mrs Weasley). There was one present they each left to last to open since they already knew what was contained inside. Without fail for as long as either of them could remember Mrs Weasley had knitted each of her children a nice warm, and often brightly coloured, jumper. This year theirs were blue.

"You have to wonder why she puts letters on them," said Fred, pulling on his jumper. "It's not like we're going to forget who they're for."

"I know, and even if we got them mixed up it's not as if we don't wear each other's clothes every now and again," agreed George, putting his own one on.

"Wait, what? You borrow my clothes?"

"Yeah, all the time," said George, frowning. "Don't you?"

"No. Hang on, is that why I never have any clean clothes lying around? Because you're taking them."

"Borrow, the word is 'borrow'," George said, correcting his brother. "And yes."

"I thought I was just losing them. Well in the interest of borrowing, I'm sure you won't mind." Fred crossed over to George's wardrobe, opened one of the drawers and took out a pair of underwear which he then put on before grabbing his trousers. "What? I'm only borrowing them."

"Oh no, that's fine, you can borrow what you like from that drawer since it's actually for my dirty clothes," said George, pointing at the wardrobe.

One quick change of clothes later, along with a barrage of complaining from Fred, the twins exited their dormitories and headed up to see their brother Percy. When they found that he was not in his room they decided to find their younger brother Ron instead, though not before hiding the two Chattering Teeth in Percy's bedside cabinet. Downstairs they found Ron and Harry in the middle of opening their presents. As usual their brother had been given a maroon coloured jumper while to the twin's surprise Harry had also been given a light green one by their mother.

"Harry's is better than ours though," said Fred, holding up the boy's jumper. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours Ron," George demanded. He picked it up from the floor and threw it over to his brother. "Come on, get it on. They're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," muttered Ron, pulling the jumper over his head.

"You haven't even got a letter on yours," George observed, pointing at Ron's chest. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid, we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy stuck his head through the door, with a disapproving look on his face. He was carrying his own knitted jumper over his arm.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy," ordered Fred, grabbing hold of the jumper. "Come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I… don't… want…" complained Percy, as the twins force the jumper down over his head and knocking his glasses awry.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family." And with that the twins frogmarched Percy from the room with his arms pinned to his side by his jumper.

"Will you let me go?" complained Percy, trying his best to free his arms. "This is not dignified."

"Dignified? No. Necessary? No. Funny? Definitely," said Fred, as the twins propelled their brother through the Common Room door and out into the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" demanded Percy.

"The Great Hall," said George.

"But Christmas Dinner isn't for hours," said Percy.

"Yeah but breakfast is now," said Fred, patting his stomach.

"I've already had breakfast."

"You have?" said George, as the twins stopped in their tracks.

"Yes," said Percy, struggling to put his arms into the sleeves of his jumper.

"When?"

"At six o'clock, like I do every morning," said Percy, finally managing to put his jumper on correctly.

"So why are you coming down to breakfast with us if you've already eaten?" asked Fred, frowning.

"I wa…" said Percy before being cut off by his brother.

"Really Percy there's no need to be greedy," said George, shaking his head in disgust. "No wonder you had trouble getting that jumper on."

"I'm not… I didn't… I…" Percy floundered for a moment. "Sometimes I hate you two."

"Ah don't say that Percy," said Fred, as the older boy turned around and headed back towards Gryffindor House.

"You know you love us really," called George. Without turning around Percy made a gesture with his hand. "Percy!"

"How rude," said Fred.

"Some people have no class."

There were very few people in the Great Hall since the bulk of the children had gone home for the holidays while most of those that had stayed at the school had elected to remain in their nice warm beds. The twins helped themselves to large bowlfuls of steaming hot porridge and chatted loudly across the room with the other children sitting on different House tables. They were soon joined by Ron and Harry, who were sporting their new, rather fetching, jumpers.

"So when do they serve lunch?" asked Ron, hungrily digging into his breakfast.

"You're thinking about lunch already?" asked George, looking down at his brother's bowl which was rapidly being emptied with each spoonful.

"Just wondering about it," said Ron, sending a short spray of porridge across the table.

"It's usually at the same time as lunch normally," said Fred, shrugging his shoulders. "Except it goes on much longer and there is so much food you'll probably need someone to roll you back to Gryffindor House."

"Well as much as we'd like to sit here and jabber on all day," said George, pushing his bowl away and swinging his legs around on the bench, "we've got places to go."

"People to see," added Fred, slapping Harry before standing up himself.

"Things to explode," said George.

"See you later," said Fred, as the pair left the Great Hall. Outside he rubbed his hands together. "Right, where shall we go?"

"Hmm you know I'm not too sure. We could always…" George paused midsentence. He had a strange feeling they were being watched. He turned around. "Oh hi Mr Filch."

"Don't 'hi' me," snapped Filch, wagging a finger at the boy.

"Okay, hello Mr Filch," said George, correcting himself.

"Don't 'hello' me either."

"What about 'wotcha'? Or 'how's it going'?" said George, rubbing his chin as he mused.

"I always liked 'top of the morning'," said Fred.

"I never really understood that, surely if you are saying it as a greeting then it should be 'bottom of the morning' since you always start at the bottom," said George with a frown on his face.

"Not with ice-cream cones, you can't start at the bottom with ice-cream cones. It would all melt out of the hole the moment you bit into the cone," reasoned Fred.

"Is that what that saying is about? Ice-cream cones?" said George, looking rather impressed at his brother's extensive knowledge on old sayings. "But you say 'morning', top of the _morning_. Who has ice-cream in the morning?"

"I would if I could," said Fred, shrugging.

"Actually so would I. Raspberry ripple, with sprinkles, you've got to have sprinkles."

"And chocolate sauce."

"Well the chocolate sauce goes without saying. It's implied."

"Do you remember that ice-cream we had a few years back at cousin Aphelia's wedding? Now that was a good ice-cream."

"Should we go and see if the House-Elves will make us some?"

"I think it would be rude not too," said Fred, looking serious. "You want to some Mr Filch?"

"No I don't want any bloody ice-cream," shouted Filch, who had spent the last couple of minutes slowly getting redder and redder.

"I know what you mean, who wants strawberry sauce on their ice-cream," said George. "Charlie always puts that on his. It's horrible stuff."

"What in Merlin's Beard are you wittering on about?" said Filch, looking confused.

"Bloody ice-cream. You know? Strawberry sauce. It's what Charlie calls it. He used to try and pretend he was pouring Dragon's blood onto his ice-cream but we always knew it was strawberry sauce. Except Ron, he believed him."

"To be fair though you have been telling Ron that Charlie was a vampire since he was about six years old," said Fred, looking at his brother with professional admiration.

"Now that was a good lie. I still can't believe he fell for it. Remember when we convinced him that Charlie was gonna bite him and turn him into a vampire on his ninth birthday?"

"Yeah," said Fred, grinning at the memory. "He locked himself in his room with a two dozen bags of garlic and rubbed them all over his body. He stunk for weeks."

"It was brilliant," said George. "Sorry Mr Filch, what were we talking about?"

"Talking? We weren't talking," said Filch, glad to get the conversation back on track. "We don't talk. I tell you what to do and you do it."

"That's right, and you want us to get you some ice-cream. No red sauce, only chocolate," said George, staring at the caretaker for confirmation of his order.

"No I don't want ice-cream," snapped Filch, spitting slightly in anger. "I want you two to know, that there are only a few dozen students staying at Hogwarts over Christmas and of those only about five have caused me any trouble and over those five you two are the worst."

"Ah thanks," said Fred, pretending to be bashful.

"It's not a competition," snarled Filch.

"But if it was, we would be the winners right?" asked George, hopefully.

"What it means is that until term starts again, and all those other miscreants return, the only ones I'm going to be concentrating on are you two. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll be there watching and waiting for you to slip up," said Filch, waving his finger at the two boys. "And when you do…"

"What?" said Fred, after a few seconds.

"Stupid as well as lazy are you?" demanded Filch, taking delight at talking down to the boys. "I thought I explained what was going to happen in short simple terms."

"Oh I got that part. You're going to follow us around blah blah blah," said Fred, waving a hand dismissively. "What I meant was, 'and when you do'… what?"

"What?" said Filch, frowning.

"Exactly," said Fred, nodding encouragement at the man.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well you said 'and when you do'. And then you left a dramatic pause but you never finished what you were saying."

"Just get out of my sight," shouted Filch, angrily.

"Righto Mr Filch," said Fred, snapping off a quick salute.

"What did you decide about the ice-cream?" asked George.

"Get out of here," bellowed Filch.

"All right, all right," said George, hurrying away after his brother. "He can be so touchy."

"Don't worry Mrs Norris," muttered Filch to his pet cat, which was now weaving its way between his legs. "We'll get them this year." Mrs Norris purred her approval at this statement. After a few seconds of silence the caretaker's stomach grumbled. "Do you fancy some ice-cream?"

Filch was true to his word and spent the next couple days hounding the twins. Every time they stepped out of Gryffindor Tower they would find the caretaker, or his beloved cat, waiting to follow them wherever they went. Worse was that he kept such a close distance to them that they found it next to impossible to disappear down any of the secret corridors that they would usually use to escape from the Filch. The presence of the caretaker outside Gryffindor House didn't stop the twins leaving as much as the cold weather. Inside the Tower it was warm and cosy, in the rest of the castle it was teeth shatteringly freezing so Fred and George spent much of their time inside and would only venture out when their stomach demanded a snack.

It was definitely weird having a dormitory room that normally housed five boys now only containing two but Fred and George found that they rather liked the new arrangements. It went from being a room they had to share to their own room, and since it was their own room they decided that they could do whatever they wanted with it. The first thing they did was to manoeuvre the beds and chairs around the room in a circle and took it in turns to try and run around the room jumping on to each bed and chair in turn without touching the ground. After several laps they realised that it was far too easy so tried to devise more and more complicated ways of completing the task.

"Okay it's about four feet in front of you," said Fred, as he watched his brother prepare to jump from a chair onto one of the beds with a blindfold on while hopping on one foot. Fred thought the he probably only stood a fifty-percent chance of succeeding and even then he was being generous.

"Right," said George. He swung his arms back and forth a few times before crouching low. He jumped. Fifty-percent chance was definitely being generous. Although he managed to get enough lift to make the jump to the bed, the blindfold made if much more difficult to stick the landing and he found himself flopping forward onto the mattress and bouncing across before landing haphazardly on the floor. George pushed the blindfold up onto his forehead with one hand while he nursed a painfully bruised shoulder with another. "That could have gone better."

"Next time when you land bend your knees," advised Fred, who was lying on his bed with the Marauders' Map open in front of him. "And maybe don't topple forward quite so much. It might be an idea not to scream like a girl either."

"Your turn," said George, throwing the blindfold over to his brother.

"Nah, you're alright," said Fred pulling up one of the legs of his trousers. There was a nasty looking red mark across his shin which looked like it had started to bruise. "I think I'll try and recover from this first. You have another go."

"I think I'll pass," said George, still massaging his arm. "Any joy?"

"No, Filch is still there," said Fred, shaking his head. The only way the twins were able to leave Gryffindor House, and be sure that the caretaker would not follow them around the building, was to keep their eye on the Marauders' Map and wait for Filch to nip away for some food or to use the toilet. Fred sat forward. "Wait. Forget that. It looks like he is moving. Yes, he's moving. Okay we don't have much time."

The twins sprung into action. George rushed over to their wardrobes, picked out a coat and thick jumper for each of them while Fred pulled out a small backpack from underneath his bed. George put on his clothes and threw the other set towards his brother who caught them deftly in one hand. As his brother put on his jumper and coat, George swung the backpack over his shoulder, wiped the Marauder's Map clean, rolled up the parchment and put it into his pocket. The twins headed out of their dormitory, grabbing a woollen hat each as they left. They rushed down the stairs, through the empty Common Room and out of the door of Gryffindor House. It had taken roughly sixty-seconds from Filch leaving his post to the twins stepping out into the hallway.

"This way," said George quickly, pointing down the corridor towards the closest secret passageway. Fred took out his wand and tapped the frame of the old painting three times. With a faint click it slowly opened and the two boys rushed inside and pulled it shut behind them.

"Right, time to cause some mischief," said George, smiling in the darkness.


	18. Danger in the Forest

Chapter 18

"The Forbidden Forrest, in the middle of the night, in the freezing cold," said Fred, as he and his brother made their way between the trees. "Remind me again why this is a good idea?"

"Because Filch is up in the school so it leaves the whole Forest free for us to mess around in."

"That's _how_ we were able to get here not _why_ we are actually here. If I wanted to be cold I'm pretty sure I could have done that in the castle."

"That's true, but do you know what you couldn't do up in the castle?" said George turning around and walking backwards while he spoke to his brother.

"Watch you hit your head on that branch?" said Fred, nodding behind his brother.

"What? Ow," said George, who had turn around in time to smack his forehead off the low hanging branch. The cold weather made it hurt much more than it would have normally. He rubbed his head with his hand. "No, I meant what we couldn't do up at the castle is watch the Centaurs take part in their annual Winter Solstice Ceremony. Apparently it's pretty amazing."

"Pretty amazing?" asked Fred sceptically. "What does it involve?"

"Well there's a big fire…"

"That'll do for me," said Fred, rubbing his hands together.

The twins continued to trek into the dark of the forest. The school had long disappeared from their vision, although the thickness of the trees had more to do with that rather than the distance they had travelled. Both boys had their wands illuminated to light the way as well as to potentially ward off any creatures that might be out looking for a night-time snack. Most people who ventured into the Forbidden Forest tended to employ a cautious approach and tried their best to remain silent. The twins were not most people.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy hoggy, Hogwarts, teach us something pleaaaaaasssseeee," bellowed Fred at the top of his voice.

"Warty," said George, cutting his brother off mid-flow.

"What?"

"It's 'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy _warty_, Hogwarts'," said George, correcting his brother.

"Are you sure?" said Fred. "I always thought it was hoggy hoggy."

"That would make no sense," scoffed George.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty, Hogwarts," muttered Fred quietly to himself. "No, it just doesn't sound right."

"You mean 'hoggy, hoggy' sounds right?"

"Fair enough. Quick question George," said Fred, stopping in his tracks. "Where in Merlin's Beard are we going?"

"Er… I'm not actually sure. We were supposed to just head directly east from the castle, and we'll pass a small stream, which we have, go through one large clearing, which we did, and just after two large fallen trees we should reach another clearing and that's where the ceremony will be taking place," said George, trying to recall the directions.

"How do you know all this?"

"It was in Enoch's letter," said George. He spotted the frown on his brother's face. "Did I not tell you we got a letter from him?"

"No, that must have slipped your mind," said Fred, shaking his head.

"Oh, well he was the one that suggested we take a look at the ceremony. Here you can read it for yourself," said George, reaching a hand into his pocket and taking out a folded piece of paper.

"You got this like last week," said Fred, as he read the letter.

"I've been busy," said George, shrugging.

"Well it sounds like a good idea, bit of dancing, some music… ooo Centaur food. I wonder what that is," said Fred, reading on. There was something nagging at the back of his mind which he couldn't quite place. He finished the letter and continued to stare at it for a while.

"Good grief, and I thought I was a slow reader," muttered George.

"I've finished reading it you idiot, there's just something about it that doesn't seem right," said Fred, looking for any clues as to what was unnerving him about the letter. His eyes were drawn to one word on the page in particular; it was the word 'definitely'. "Definitely, definitely. Here, look at the spelling of the word definitely. Does it seem wrong to you?"

"No, that's how you spell it," said George, examining the word under wandlight.

"That's my point. How many letters has Enoch sent us over the years? How many times has he spelt 'definitely' correctly? It's not just that word either, it's loads of them; experience, familiar, finally. They're all spelt correctly. And remember his last letter? It warned us that he was in trouble but this one doesn't even mention anything to do with that," said Fred, frowning. "There's no way he wrote this."

"Well I had hope you would have got further into the forest but I suppose here is just a good a place as anywhere," said a voice behind them.

Fred and George spun around quickly. Standing about thirty foot behind them was a figure dressed in dark robes. It was difficult to make out any more since the man had a cowl pulled up over his head while the light from his wand was too bright to see passed.

"Who are you?" demanded George, pointing his wand at the figure.

"Who I am isn't important," said the man.

"What are you doing here?" asked Fred.

"Me? I'm just taking a stroll through the forest," said the man in a casual manner. "I thought I might take in the Centaurs' Winter Solstice Ceremony. Apparently it's pretty amazing."

"How did you know about… wait, it was you wasn't it? You wrote the letter," accused Fred.

"Guilty as charged," said the man, laughing slightly.

"Why?"

"Well your dear uncle Enoch was proving to be a rather awkward fellow to pin down. So I thought to myself 'what's the easiest way to capture something?' And I realised the answer was to make sure you have the right bait. And now I do. You two."

"What do you want with Enoch?" asked Fred. The man had slowly begun walking towards them so the two boys were trying to back away without tripping over in the dark.

"Easy. To kill him."

"What's he ever done to you?" snapped George, trying to sound far braver than he felt.

"Nothing, well apart from some choice insults when I thought I had him cornered a few months back. I'm not killing him because I want to; I'm killing him because someone wants him dead."

"What's the difference?" asked Fred, stalling for time while he thought of a plan of escape.

"I'm not a common murderer dear boy; I'm a highly skilled assassin. Any idiot can be a murderer. Assassination is delicate and precise art form when done correctly. And I am one of the best when it comes to doing things correctly."

"Look, whatever you are being paid…" began George. The man started to laugh.

"You'll double it? I doubt your pocket money would amount to much."

"Shows what you know. We don't even get pocket money," said Fred, sneering at the man. He glanced over at his brother who was now looking at him and shaking his head. "What? It sounded good in my head."

"What do you think we should do?" whispered George as quietly as he could.

"I think we should do what we always do," said Fred, shrugging.

"Fair enough."

"So are you going to be good boys and come quietly? Or is this going to turn ugly?"

"Hey, we're just kids, we don't want any trouble," said Fred, holding out his hands up. "NOW!"

"Pertificus Totalis!" shouted George, aiming his wand towards the man.

"Furnuculus!" Fred fired his own spell at the target.

Neither boy waited to see if their spells hit their mark. Instead they were already off running through the darkness trying their best not to trip. They kept running as hard as they could until they came to a small clearing.

"Wait," puffed George, slowing to a stop. Both he and his brother had extinguished the light from their wands but still kept them raised just in case. "Where are we? Which way is the school?"

"I think it's…" Fred tailed off as he looked around. "I have no idea."

"Brilliant, we're lost with a nutjob after us."

"And for once it isn't Filch," said Fred. He pointed towards one side of the clearing. "I say we go this way."

"Why that way?"

"It's as good as any other way and it'll take us in the opposite direction of the nutjob," reasoned Fred.

"Should we try and get the attention of someone in the castle? Like sending up red sparks or something?"

"Who'll see it? Apart from the nutjob."

"Well that was an enjoyable little jaunt through the woods," said the voice of the man who was now emerging from the trees. He held his wand lazily in one hand and if he hadn't previously indicated his nefarious intentions, it wouldn't have been out of place to assume he was just enjoying a leisurely nightly stroll through the forest.

"Expelliamus!" barked George quickly. His heart leaped as the man's wand shot forward before he could grip it in time. The boy caught it in his spare hand and held it aloft triumphantly. "Aha!"

"Nice one George," beamed Fred. He turned to address the man. "Who's the tough guy now then eh?"

"Oh I don't need a wand to be able to take care of a couple of children," said the man. His hand reached inside his robes and pulled out a long sharp and slightly curved knife.

"Hang on, you only have a knife, we're the ones with the wands," said George as the man began to slowly walk towards them.

"I'm quite aware of that. My point is it doesn't matter," said the man, continuing his approach.

"Stop right there or we're going to have to stop you ourselves," said Fred, raising his wand in a threatening manner.

"We mean it," stated George once it became apparent that the man had no intention of stopping. He looked over at his brother.

"We warned him," said Fred, shrugging.

The two boys aimed their wands and each fired off a spell which hit the man square in the chest. Their celebrations were short lived when it became apparent that despite being struck by both spells, neither of them seemed to have had any effect on the man. Overcoming their initial surprised they once again fired off a spell each, and once again the man suffered no visible ill effects. Desperately trying one last time the twins fired off a whole barrage of spells one after the other in a non-stop attack that lasted about a minute and left them slightly out of breath when they finally stopped. The man was still standing in the same place and was now laughing at the ineffectual attacks.

"How?" it was the only word George could manage to force out against the rising panic he was now feeling.

The man lifted his hands slowly up to the cowl shadowing his face and pushed it back. Fred managed to stifle his sharp intake of breath but George was unable to stop himself from swearing. The man was no man, he was… something else.

Although he had similar features to a human; two eyes, nose, mouth, they were not completely normal. The eyes were perfectly round, much further apart than normal and seemed to be moving completely separately from each other. His nose was extremely thin with one nostril protruding on each side rather than at the bottom. His mouth held two rows of sharp looking teeth and a thick black tongue that matched the colour of his lips. His skin was made up of tiny green scales which, along with the rest of his features, made him look like an oversized chameleon.

"What is that?" said Fred, not entirely sure if he want to know the answer.

"Some kind of weird lizard man thing," ventured George.

"I'm a Kosa," said the man. A look of distain had crept onto his face after George's comment.

"I would say it's a pleasure to meet you A-Kosa, but you know the whole trying to kill us thing sort of gets in the way of being nice," said Fred sarcastically.

"I'm not trying to kill you, well not yet anyway," said the man, smirking. "And my name is Valek. Kosa is my species."

"Is that supposed to mean something to us?" asked George. The twins had now more or less backed away the entire width of the clearing as they tried to keep some distance between themselves and Valek.

"I'm not surprised you don't know about my kind. There as so few of us left not many do. In fact I think I could very well be the last of my kind," said Valek, shrugging.

"Well if this is how your people acted, I doubt they'd be missed much," said Fred. He looked over his shoulder to try and gauge how far it was to the tree line.

"Yes, we were never popular with you wizards. It could have been down to our different social structures, our desire to increase our political power amongst the other magical beings, or even our habit of accumulating wealth. But personally I think it was down to two very simple factors. One; we're naturally immune to magic, and two; we just really like killing things," said Valek. His black tongue snaked out and licked his lips as he smiled.

"How far away are the trees? I reckon we could lose him in there," whispered George.

"About another twenty foot or so," guessed Fred. "Just keep him talking a little longer and we'll be there."

"I also happen to have very good hearing," said Valek, tapping the side of his head. "This is the last time I'll ask. Give yourselves up, or I will just kill you."

Before either Fred or George could reply there was the sound of snapping twigs and rapid footsteps approaching from one side of the clearing. Valek had heard it too and stopped in his tracks with the curved blade held out in front of him. The twins were unsure where to aim their wands since there was a very good chance that whatever was coming could be just as dangerous as the Kosa. The sound grew louder and louder. They could make out something large and white making its way through the trees towards them. The creature leaped over a thicket of thistles and into the clearing. At first Fred and George thought it was just a horse which had escaped from the school stables but as it raced through the clearing they saw a single horn protruding from its forehead. It was the first time either of them had seen a unicorn and despite the situation they still marvelled at its beauty as it raced threw the glade towards the trees opposite.

Valek snarled and began to move towards the twins again before a second sound stopped him once more. Fred expecting another unicorn started to back away towards the tree line while pulling his brother along with him by the arm. George tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. Following his brother's gaze Fred saw towards what he was gesturing. It wasn't a unicorn. It was a dark hooded figure.

The figure turned to look at the twins. Although they couldn't make out its features both of them felt a chill run through their veins as its eyes fell on them. It slowly turned to look at the Kosa. Valek let out a long low pitched hiss and bared his teeth. There was a brief moment where when it looked as though he was about to attack the newcomer but instead gradually began moving away always making sure to keep the creature in sight.

"What do you think?" whispered George, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

"I think that whatever that is," said Fred, pointing at the strange creature, "it's dangerous enough that Valek is scared of it. And _he's_ immune to magic."

"Do you think it's friendly?" George only had to look at his brother to guess his answer. "Fair enough, there's no need to make that face. Let's get out of here."

The twins backed away to the safety of the tree line before turning tail and running as fast as their legs could carry them. They didn't dare look behind and both barrelled forward through the trees and the undergrowth leaving the clearing far behind them. After a good few minutes of running and several near falls they both finally stopped to catch their breaths.

"What was that thing?" said George, gasping for air.

"I haven't even heard of a Kosa before. Have you?"

"No, not Valek. The other thing."

"No idea. It's the Forbidden Forest. There are hundreds of things in here that are far more dangerous than Valek," said Fred, waving his hand in the air.

"I really wish you hadn't said that while we are standing alone in the middle of the Forest."

"Why not?"

"Because its one of those things you just don't say. Like 'everything will be fine' or 'nothing can go wrong' or 'this'll be the best Christmas those orphans will ever have'. The moment you say something like that then something bad always happens. And saying that there are hundreds of things in the Forest that are far more dangerous than an assassin who is immune to magic who wants to kill us instantly means that something is about to come out of the trees and attack us," said Fred, as his voice got more and more high-pitched. He held his wand out expecting an immediate onslaught from the darkness.

"So how long are we going to wait to be attacked?" asked George, after a few minutes.

"Well these things normally happen straight away as far as I know," said Fred, frowning.

"Right and since we weren't attacked straight away?"

"We're probably safe," said Fred, relaxing, although he still kept out his wand.

"Plonker," said George, shaking his head. "Any ideas where we are?"

"None. I think we might have moved even further away from the castle," said Fred. He looked up at the trees that surrounded them. "Maybe we could climb one of these and try and spot which way we should head."

"Good luck with that," said George, slapping his brother on the back. "I'll wait down here."

"Right," said Fred. He scratched his chin and looked at the nearest tree thoughtfully as he worked out the initial route he would climb.

There was a snap of a twig in the dark.

Fred span around and grabbed for his wand just as something shot out of the shadows and knocked him over onto the ground.

"Fred!" shouted George, pointing his wand at the creature.

"Fang! Bad boy!"

"Hagrid?" said George, as the school's groundskeeper came out of the darkness. George looked down at his brother and he realised the creature he was about to attack was actually Hagrid's pet dog which was enthusiastically licking Fred's face.

"What are you two doing here?" demanded Hagrid.

"About to drown," said Fred, covering his face as best as he could from the dog's slobber.

Psst, hey you, yes you. No, not him, I'm talking to you the Reader. It's me again Phantomduck. Remember about two chapters ago I asked you to buy a hat and keep some info under it? Do you still have that hat? What do you mean you didn't think I was serious? How do you keep stuff under your hat if you don't have a hat? Okay, okay, forget about the hat.

Now, a quick favour to ask. Can you check out the link of my profile page? I've published a book available Kindle. I'm just getting people to have a look at it. You'll be able to read the first 3 chapters, so if you like it, buy it. If you don't like it, buy it anyway and pretend you like it.

Okay since I'm not supposed to put a request like this in a chapter, we're going to keep this just between you, me and your local hat salesman.


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